


Moving The Goalposts

by Velvethope



Series: Muggle Au [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Muggle AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 75,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23740057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velvethope/pseuds/Velvethope
Summary: A Harry Potter Muggle Au. Harry’s a famous football player who meets a mysterious redhead. Misunderstandings, romance, and email. Things are not always what they seem. A character study of Harry and co in a different setting.
Relationships: Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, Harry/Ginny
Series: Muggle Au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761598
Comments: 93
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> My new story, just meant to be a bit of fun during these tough times. I never thought I would do a Muggle Au so this experience has been interesting! I see this running about 10 chapters or so and have about half written. Updates should be faily regular. Many thanks to NaruKoibito for being my exceptional beta and hand-holder. And to everyone at The Ginny Lovers Discord for being great sounding boards and brainstormers. You know who you are. I blame them for this one. ;) And also, as I know absolutely nothing about football (soccer) all mistakes are mine and mine alone regarding any confusion there.

**Moving the Goalposts**

“ _International football star, Harry Potter (seen here with long-time love, sports fashion designer Cho Chang) announces plans to open a series of sports centers for troubled teens. Bringing sport to the under-privileged and way-ward youth has been a dream of the roguish football player since he himself was a teenager –“ (Chepstow Review, August 2005)_

_“Harry Potter hurt during charity football skirmish! Will he play again? Are his feet really insured for half a million each? What does this mean for his future as a player? Can the Fulham club bound back without their star center-back?” (Bath Chronicle, May 2006)_

_“Harry Potter Returns to Football! After months of being out with injury, the man most opposing players tremble to see coming at them down the field has returned to active duty! Will he be the same star player as before? Can he last a whole game with that previously injured leg?” (Chepstow Review, July 2007)_

_“Harry Potter to retire! After months of struggling and sitting on the bench, the previous all-star player has announced he is leaving the game. After the horrible injury he received last year, it has been a struggle for the formerly strong player to return to his previous heights of glory. Also of note, his long-time love, Cho Chang, has been seen around town with new rugby star Roger Davies! Could this also have something to do with our sports hero’s need to flee? Turn to page 12 to find out more….” (Total Football, March 2008)_

Harry made a face as his godfather Sirius continued reading the latest story. He rested his head on his hand and sighed, stirring cream into his coffee. His "uncle," Remus Lupin, smiled at him from across the table and gave him a look full of commiseration. He and Harry both knew there was no stopping Sirius when he was on a roll. And the latest batch of newspaper articles about Harry had been just the thing to set the older man off. Harry had made his announcement months ago, but still, the papers acted as though it was brand new information.

“Of course, there’s no mention of your charitable contributions or your successful sport-centers, helping kids find focus and getting them off the streets. Oh, no, all this…" Sirius paused in mid-rant, looking at the byline of the article, an immediate sneer appearing on his face. “All this R. Skeeter bloke can do is write rubbish and throw pictures of your ex-girlfriend, who’s scantily clad at some nightclub, in our bloody faces!”

Sirius threw the paper down in disgust, and Harry peered at it over his coffee cup. "Is Cho _really_ scantily clad? Should I save it for when things get terrible and no one will date me because I’m a washed out, used up former sports star who’s not even that handsome?”

Remus snorted into his eggs and gave Harry an amused look. “You mean for when the only comfort you can find is in the faded photograph of a former love, and you’ve taken to carrying it around with you in remembrance?”

Harry grinned cheekily at his uncle. “I was thinking of using it for future wanking material, but your idea sounds better. Much more pathetic.”

Sirius interrupted them with a scowl from the kitchen entryway. "I don't know why you two think this is funny! This Skeeter bloke is ruining Harry’s reputation with their nonsense. They practically imply you can barely walk without someone to help you!”

Remus raised his eyebrow at his old friend and then looked at Harry. “I think we all know that job falls to someone else around here, Sirius.”

Harry watched as his uncle used his hands to push himself away from the table, his wheelchair moving smoothly back in one fluid motion. Sirius’s face turned red immediately.

“Remus! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

"No, I know you didn't mean to, old friend," Remus said, rolling over to Harry’s godfather. “You were just starting a fine rant on Harry’s behalf, I know. However, I think your godson could do without the theatrics for once?”

Sirius looked at Harry, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry, Harry. I just get riled up.” He came over to the table and sat down in the chair next to his godson’s.

"It's okay, Sirius. I like that you get riled up for me. It just means I don't have to spend any time doing it myself.”

Remus laughed as he came back from the kitchen, his briefcase on his lap, and his to-go cup in his hand. "I won't be home tonight, just a reminder. Think you two bachelors can fend for yourselves? Maybe do something other than order take-away for a change?"

“Where are you going to be instead?” Sirius asked, moving the other man’s briefcase off his lap and into the carrying compartment the wheelchair had on the side.

“Dora’s, remember? It’s Tuesday.”

“Oh yeah, this is your weekly shag-date, isn't it, Moony?" Sirius said, winking at Harry.

Harry saw his uncle roll his eyes, but his lips twitched in amusement. “Jealous, Padfoot? I know it’s been a while since you’ve had a leg over. I’m sure Dora has a _few_ friends left that you haven’t yet impressed with your charming ways.”

“Not my fault she always sets me up with boring birds, Remus. It’s like she wants me to settle down and become respectable or something.” Sirius looked affronted at the idea.

Remus merely shook his head at his friend and nodded at Harry. “Take care, Harry, and don’t let the bad press get you down. It has to taper off in a few days, I'm certain. They know they’re just running the same story again and again. Are you meeting that rehab-coach friend of yours later?”

Harry nodded. "Yeah, Ron. Ron Weasley. He's been across the pond, and I haven't seen him since he released me from care. It’ll be nice to hang out with someone who’s not going to ask me how my leg is. Well, at least if Ron does it, it’ll be in a professional sense.”

Remus maneuvered his chair around and headed towards the door, off to his post as a school science teacher. Harry was glad this particular job had panned out. Remus had been through a lot and deserved a nice place to work where they accepted him and didn’t just hire him to fill some quota of disabled people. Remus had been studying to become an astrophysicist before his illness had crippled him and put him in the wheelchair. Now he focused on the general sciences and taught young kids, trying to get them interested in the subject.

Harry looked at his godfather, who was now drinking his coffee and reading the rest of the paper. Sirius worked as a dog trainer and, as such, usually had work in the mornings.

“No dogs to train this morning?”

Sirius glanced at him. “No, told Becca to give me a few mornings off this week.”

"To watch over me in my time of need?" Harry asked knowingly. Sirius liked to play it cool, but Harry knew that deep down inside, his godfather was a serious mother-hen.

Sirius snorted. “No. You wish, Potter. I am merely living my life and enjoying the luxury of a few mornings off.”

Harry shook his head and got up, moving his dishes and cup to the kitchen area dishwasher. He wondered if he had time to go into town to pick up a few things before his lunch with Ron Weasley. Remembering that the article Sirius had been so upset about had just come out, Harry reckoned maybe staying in this morning was a better idea. Then again, he could also just wear his glasses and skip his contacts. No one tended to recognize him if he looked like a nerdy git. If Harry threw on some baggy clothes, his look was practically indistinguishable.

“I’m going to go do some light exercise,” Harry said, making up his mind and heading towards the stairs. Their bedrooms and his old training room were all located on the second level. There was a small mechanical contraption sitting next to the staircase that Sirius had put in to help Remus get up and down. Harry had to admit it was a pretty ingenious device and had saved them from having to move. They lived in his parent's old house, and Harry had not wanted to sell it. It was the only thing he really had of theirs, other than the memories of their two best friends that had helped raise him. His parents had died shortly after Harry had been born, and he had unfortunately never known them. But he liked living in their former house. It made him feel closer to them.

"Don't overdo it," Sirius called out as Harry was half-way up the stairs. Harry shook his head and bit back his retort. Yes, a _serious_ mother-hen, indeed.

o-o-o-o-o

Harry made his way down the high street of the little village he liked to call home- Godric’s Hollow. Harry didn’t really know who Godric was or had been, but it was a quaint little place. He liked to think his parents had enjoyed it too for the first few years they'd lived there. According to Remus, not much had changed in the village, and Harry could almost imagine his mother and father shopping in the same market he did, or maybe they had gone to the same cinema he liked.

He stopped at one of the new blocks of buildings that had just recently popped up – there were expensive flats and shops and unique restaurants now at the end of the high street. The rest of the village (i.e., the older residents) tended to give the new area a wide berth, but Harry knew that younger people such as himself would most likely be drawn to it.

He stopped in front of a trendy new bistro, The Hearth and Wink, trying to look in. The restaurant was all glass and chrome and full of bright light. Harry would have preferred eating at his favorite pub, the Dragon’s Wake, run by their family friend Hagrid, but Ron was new to the area and hadn’t wanted to get lost.

As Harry was peering in, he caught a glimpse of red in the reflection from the restaurant window. Immediately thinking it was Ron (the man was an undeniable ginger from fifty-feet away), Harry turned to call to him only to realize it was a young woman with long, fiery red hair walking past on the other side of the street. She was short, yet well proportioned and quite fit-looking, to Harry's eyes. He couldn't help it, he watched her walking and enjoyed it very much – something stirring in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time. Her hair, the most brilliant shade of red he'd ever seen, was flowing behind her as she moved gracefully through the other pedestrians.

Harry realized with a start that he was still holding his hand up to wave hello and dropped his arm quickly as the woman glanced across the street at him. She had on dark sunglasses, and Harry couldn't be sure if she'd seen his moment of being a dunderhead or not. He started matching her stride to see if he could figure out where she was heading. It wasn’t creepy if he was across the street following a woman around the village, was it? Before Remus’s voice could answer in the affirmative inside his head, Harry ran smack dab into another person, hitting his head on their chin.

“Ow, bloody hell…” Harry muttered and looked up to see who or what he’d run into. Harry felt joy push through him. “Weasley! Ron Weasley, as I live and breathe!”

The other man smiled sardonically at him. “All right there, Harry? You ran right into me, mate.”

Harry rubbed his forehead, laughing. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Come here!" Harry pulled his old rehab coach in for a hug. He had honestly missed the other man's company. Ron had been one of the few people Harry had been able to befriend after his accident. Ron was a person who hadn't been out for a story. Or for the glory of being seen as his so-called friend.

“I noticed,” Ron said dryly. He looked across the street. “What were you gaping at anyway?”

Harry felt his skin heat. “Oh, uh, just thought I saw someone I knew.”

Ron gave him a knowing look. “Caught sight of a cute bird, didn’t you?”

Harry laughed. “Fine, yes, she was quite fit. I was just debating with myself about how creepy it would be for me to follow her to try to chat her up.”

Ron grabbed his arm and turned them around toward the restaurant. “It would most definitely be creepy, as well as sending you in the wrong direction for meeting me. Come on, women can wait. I’m hungry!”

o-o-o-o-o

After a surprisingly enjoyable lunch of fancy, mini-pizzas, and a hearty salad, Harry and Ron were enjoying themselves out on the patio of the restaurant. Ron had a nice large pint of the local ale he was appreciating, and Harry was enjoying a tall, fizzy drink the waiter had called a ‘Winky’s Gleam.' It had pineapple, gin, lemonade, and something that made it turn a bright blue color that Harry nevertheless enjoyed. Even if it did make him feel slightly less manly to be seen drinking it.

“So, America, huh?” Harry asked Ron as their discussion of the latest team standings had given way to more personal subject matters.

Ron rubbed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, what a trip living there was. It was bloody exciting at first, and Hermione really enjoyed being in New York and then near Boston. She dragged me to every museum and old bookstore you can find over there. But…I don’t know. We missed England. There’s something about being home that just feels…right. And my folks are getting on in years, and we want to start a family soon, so here I am, back in Blighty."

"How are your brothers doing or, no, wait, you have a sister, too, right?" Harry asked. He'd only met one or two of Ron's family, which wasn’t all that strange if you considered the fact that he had six other siblings.

“They’re good. Bill’s out in Egypt of all places, dragging his wife and daughter around to different digs. Charlie’s just gone to the Galápagos to study his bloody lizards. Percy’s working for the government, of course. Fred and George have more than a couple of shops now, they’re doing quite well, come to think of it. Cheeky blighters. Picked us up at the airport in a bloody Jag. And Ginny is…well, she’s floundering a bit, really. She had a bad break-up with that git, Dean Thomas. He plays for Arsenal, and he's an utter arse. Not that I'd think anyone is good enough for my baby sister, mind you, but he _really_ wasn’t. Cheated on her, tried to get her in trouble with the team – she was their marketing manager – and he implied she traded favors for…well, _favors_. If you know what I mean.”

“Wow, I’ve only met him once. He started playing after my accident happened. We didn't really run into each other that much on or off the field. He seemed like an okay bloke at the time. I’m sorry she went through that. I know better than anyone, football brings out the worst in people.”

Ron sighed. “Yeah, I’m worried about her, to tell the truth. I’ve put my wife onto her to help sort her out, but Ginny doesn’t really respond well to people interfering. She keeps telling me it's fine that she lost that job because she hated it anyway, but I still can't help but worry. Anyway, how about you? Your godfather all right? And your uncle, he was pretty healthy last time we talked. Has he had any relapses?”

Harry shook his head. “He’s good. He’s dating his former nurse, Dora. It makes me and Sirius sleep a little better at night when he’s away, to know that she’s a nurse. Actually, I’ve never seen Remus look better, so she must be good for him.”

“And your ex…er, what was her name? Oh, yeah. Cho. The Women’s Sports Designer. I noticed her on a couple of magazines we saw at Heathrow. Dating Roger -what's- his- name now, isn’t she?”

Harry grimaced but nodded. “Yeah, I reckon I don’t feel any ill will towards Cho. We just grew apart, and we had decided to call it quits long before I announced my retirement. I just wished she hadn’t chosen that weekend to go out with her new boyfriend. Sort of made me look like a complete pillock.”

Ron grinned good-naturedly at him. "Well, let me know when you're ready to date again. Hermione said she's got loads of ladies she'd like you to meet."

“Hermione doesn’t even know what sort of girls I like!”

Ron snorted and finished his pint. “Never stops her, mate. She tries to fix up everyone I know. It’s her mission in life. Well, other than saving the world from itself, that is.”

“Is she still a social worker? No, wait, wasn’t she going back to school for something else?”

Ron shook his head. “Blimey, Harry. You have no idea. In America, she'd take courses left and right. She’s pretty much qualified to do anything at this point. Now she’s setting her sights on becoming a barrister over here to fight the good fight. That’s why I am hoping she takes to helping Ginny out for a bit, give me some peace and quiet.”

Harry chuckled as the waiter dropped off the cheque. He picked it up before Ron could even move. The other man frowned.

“I know I’m out of work currently but, I can still pick up a cheque, you know. Those Americans paid great.”

Harry shook his head. "You get it next time. Consider this my welcome home gift to you. I've missed you, I gotta say, Ron. I love my godfather and uncle something fierce, but I haven't had anyone my age to actually talk to in a long time. My teammates basically blew me off the minute they realized I couldn't make them any more money."

Ron looked serious for a moment. “I’m sorry, Harry. That’s awful, but at least you know they weren’t really your friends. Well, look, as soon as we get our house set up, expect dinner at ours at least three times a week. Hermione took a cooking class in the States and is dying to poison someone. I’d rather it not be me, so, cheers!”

They laughed, and both got up as Harry paid the tab at the front. After promising to talk later in the week with their mobiles, the two friends parted company. Harry turned to look at the other side of the street again, hoping against hope that the cute redhead he’d seen earlier would be over there, making her way back. Unfortunately, all Harry saw were two blokes looking shifty and a couple of old ladies getting out of their way. He watched for a moment to make sure the two men didn’t start any trouble. Once it appeared everything was going to be all right, he turned and headed for home.

Harry felt lighter now that he knew he’d have someone his age to talk to again. And who knows, maybe he _would_ take Ron’s wife up on her offer to set him up. He’d been without female companionship for ages now – he and Cho hadn’t been romantic for months before she’d left. And if staring at random redheads across the village street was any indication, then Harry was more than ready.

o-o-o-o-o

A few weeks later, Harry was finally going over to Ron and Hermione Weasley’s new house for dinner. They lived fairly close to the Potter home, and Harry thought he'd just walk over. It was a lovely evening, and it hadn't rained in days, so the air was crisp, and the light April breeze felt good in his hair.

He'd worn his glasses again, liking the anonymity they gave him. It had always been Cho's preference for him to wear his contacts all the time when he wasn't playing sport. Harry reckoned that now since he wouldn’t be playing anything at all, he could forgo the bloody contacts and just be Harry Potter, bespectacled git, non-sports hero.

The Weasley home looked homey and inviting – it was a two-level country home, blending in with much of the other dwellings in the neighborhood. Harry spotted fresh flower beds that had been dug up and replanted and remembered Ron complaining via his text message that his wife had made him do the 'bloody gardening' one Sunday morning.

Ron had found another job, by their home, helping young kids that had, for one reason or another, lost the control of their legs or feet. Some, like Harry, had had a bad break knock them out of commission. Some of the others had lost the use of their limbs in more severe ways. Ron told Harry it was challenging working with kids, for the first time and they were often harder to deal with emotionally than adults. But Harry could tell his friend was already finding the work very satisfying.

He knocked on the door and could hear soft music coming through the window. A moment later, the door opened, and Harry found himself staring at a smiling Hermione Weasley. She was shorter than Harry or Ron and had long, bushy brown hair. From the few times he'd met her before, Harry knew that she was also a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to be. Hermione had a mind like a steel trap.

“Harry! So good of you to come! You’re our first official non-family member to visit!”

She hugged him, and Harry was surprised but hugged her back. He didn’t know Hermione as well as he knew Ron, but he knew the two were very close, and she probably felt like she knew Harry already just from talking to her husband. Ron appeared in the doorway behind them, shaking his head.

“Ease up, Hermione, give the bloke a chance to actually enter our home before you squeeze him to death."

Hermione laughed and pulled back. “Sorry, Harry. I'm just happy to see you. I'm so glad you and Ron have remained good friends. He needs more of those and fewer brothers around to torture us."

Harry looked at Ron, wondering what she was talking about. Ron smirked at Harry. "You just missed Fred and George. They were taking the piss out of me, and Hermione got a bit shirty."

Hermione made a hrumpf noise to herself as Harry entered their house. It still looked as though they were unpacking a bit, but the room was looking like a comfortable place to hang out in. There was a fireplace and comfy looking sofas and chairs facing this way and that. More flowers hung from the ceiling in different types of pots, and picture frames littered almost every surface. Tons of books lined the back walls. In fact, it was more books than Harry had ever seen in his life, even in a book store. He stood gaping at them for a moment, and Ron noticed his expression.

“Yeah, you should have seen me lugging those out of storage, mate. Almost broke my bloody back.”

“Oh, pooh, Ron. You needed the exercise anyway. Come, Harry, we're eating in the kitchen since our dining room chairs are still forthcoming."

She led them through what Harry could only guess was the aforementioned dining room (long oak table, no chairs, papers, and boxes still piled high on it) into a bright, airy kitchen. There was a desk set up in the corner with a home computer on top of it. Across from it was a small table for eating, already set. The kitchen smelled amazing.

Hermione offered him a glass of wine, and Harry took it happily. Ron leaned against the side counter with his own drink as his wife started checking the various pots and pans on the hob.

“You just missed Ginny too, although you’re lucky there, she was in a right foul mood.”

“Oh?”

“She had a job interview, and I think they brought up her previous post and, er, well, Ginny sort of let them have it.”

Harry smirked as he took a drink. He wasn’t precisely certain he wanted to meet Ron's sister all that much; she sounded like a handful with a bad temper. Every story Ron had told him about her seemed to have her getting upset one way or another about something. Harry supposed that some women just enjoyed the drama.

“You would have let them have it too, Ron, if someone had asked you what they asked her," Hermione said, pulling something out of the oven.

Ron nodded at her. “You’re right, of course. Us Weasleys always hit first and think second. Ginny’s got it worse than all of us combined. Of course, what with that git, Dean Thomas still talking about her…”

Harry tuned out his friend as he looked at the pictures that were tacked up on the wall behind him. He saw a lot of Ron and Hermione together in what could only be America. He saw a few other red-headed people that could only be more members of Ron's family. He saw an older photo of all of the Weasleys together – apparently from many years ago as everyone looked very young. He saw what had to be the famous Ginny Weasley herself, looking as though she was about 12 years old. She had a toothy grin and a mischievous glint in her eye, from what Harry could tell. Her hair was the same shade as Ron’s and cut short. She didn’t look like a little spitfire, but then what did Harry know? He was sure 12-year-old girls grew into all sorts of different types of women.

"We have roasted lamb tonight. I hope that's all right, Harry? I came across an interesting recipe while in the States and couldn’t wait to try it.” Hermione's voice interrupted his thoughts, and he turned his attention back to his friends.

"Sure, I can try anything," Harry said, joining his friends by the table.

"Oi, now we're in for it!" Ron said, rolling his eyes. Hermione tsked at him and shook her head.

“Don’t listen to him, Harry. He loves my cooking.”

Harry laughed as they all sat down. There were also red potatoes and glazed carrots. Ron served them each a large slice of the lamb, and they started eating. Harry realized he liked it quite a bit. They enjoyed a pleasant meal with laughter, as Ron began to tell Harry stories about how strange it had been to live in America, at first. And Hermione entertained them with facts and anecdotes she’d learned about everything under the sun. Harry talked about how hard it had been since announcing his retirement and how the press were still, even now, hounding him. He spoke of not being able to wait to do more work with his Sports Centers for Kids once everything died down. Hermione became especially interested in the legal aspects of the charity he’d created to help money go to the Centers. When Ron's eyes glazed over, Harry knew it was probably time to call it a night.

“This was nice, thank you,” Harry said as he got up to leave. “I’ll have to have you two over on one of the nights Sirius actually cooks for us. You can swap recipes, Hermione."

“Well, actually, Harry. Ron was mentioning that…”

“Hermione!”

Harry looked at the two of them, suddenly worried he’d done something wrong. “What is it?” He asked.

Hermione blushed slightly but gave her husband a look that clearly said 'shut-it.' "Well, he mentioned that you want to start dating again, and I do have this friend…"

Harry chuckled as Ron blushed as well. He looked askance at his wife. "Blimey, Hermione, you said you weren't going to mention it _tonight_.”

“It’s okay,” Harry said, understanding. “What’s her name and how long have you known her?”

Hermione beamed at him as they walked to the door. “Her name is Romilda Vane, and she worked at my old office. So I knew her from before, but we met up for coffee recently, and she mentioned how it's hard to find nice blokes, so I thought of you.”

Harry made a face. “You didn’t actually tell her I’m a nice bloke, did you? Because that’s sort of the kiss of death for a man.”

“No! I just said Ron had a friend who was recently single and wanted to meet new people. She knows absolutely nothing about how nice and polite you really are, promise. You could be a wild bad boy for all she knows!”

“Knowing Romilda, she’d probably like that.” Harry heard Ron mutter under his breath and raised his eyebrow at his friend.

“Don’t listen to him, Harry. Romilda is very nice. And clever. And I suppose she is quite pretty.”

Harry shook his head at her. “I’m not picky, really. As long as she’s got two eyes, a nose, and corresponding lady bits, I'm usually okay."

“I noticed you left out the mouth part," Ron said, snickering as Hermione hit him in the gut with her elbow.

“One of those is nice too,” Harry said, laughing.

“Okay, how about Saturday night we meet up at that pub you were telling Ron about, The Dragon’s Wake?” Hermione asked as Harry stepped out into the night. He turned and smiled at her.

“That’s sacred ground for me, Hermione. You want me to feel comfortable, is that it?”

“Well, it does have its advantages. I know how nervous blokes get. If you were in a place you knew, you wouldn't sweat the small stuff."

Harry laughed. “All right then. I’ll meet her. At least I can see Hagrid and know I’ll be eating great food.”

They made plans to call each other and hash out the details, and Harry was on his way back home. He decided to cut across the open field area behind their neighborhood. It was one of the last genuinely empty fields around them, and he hoped no one would ever buy it and build a petrol station or something equally loathsome on it.

He was half-way across when he heard strange noises up ahead of him and frowned, hurrying his feet to see what was wrong. It sounded like someone was getting the hell kicked out of them. When he came upon the actual scene, he was a bit flabbergasted. In the middle of a small clearing was a woman, kicking footballs up against a portable goal’s nest. She was kicking with all of her might too, Harry noticed. She had a dark, black cap pulled down as low as it could go and was dressed in an old football uniform that looked two sizes too big for her.

Harry couldn’t help but watch in fascination as she moved the ball back and forth up the small section she’d cleared off and then kick it in between the goalposts. She was petite and fast, and she knew what she was doing. He was about to announce his presence, since he felt somewhat menacing standing in the tall weeds, just gawking at her when she stopped suddenly and swore out loud. He watched as she gulped down air as she’d apparently been running back and forth for a while. Her shoulders eventually turned inwards, and Harry felt dismayed to realize she was crying. 

Before Harry could even react, she was done, and he had to admire the way she held her head up higher and started walking toward the goal, picking up the other footballs as she walked. He waited a moment and then backed away, feeling as though he had just intruded onto a very private moment. 

When he finally got back home, he was still puzzling over what he'd witnessed. Remus and Tonks were sitting together on the large settee in the sitting room – he with most likely school papers in front of him and Dora with one of her always present murder mysteries or detective stories she loved to read. A hobby she shared with Harry quite happily.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Dora called from the sofa as she stretched out, and he waved at them. He came into the sitting room and sat down in the chair across from them.

“All right, Harry?” Remus asked, noticing his mood immediately. Harry nodded.

“I’m okay. Just saw something strange in the old field between here and Ron’s new place.”

"Ooh!" said Dora getting excited. "Was it aliens? I bet it was aliens! Or was it a couple of kids having it off, and you thought you'd take some notes?" 

Harry rolled his eyes at her. “No, it was just a girl, kicking footballs and running back and forth as though possessed.”

Dora looked disappointed and looked up at Remus. “He never sees anything cool.”

Remus tsked as he looked down at her and glanced back up at Harry. “Was she any good?”

“She was brilliant, actually. But…she got really emotional and just started crying. I sort of just turned around and came back the long way. I didn’t want her to think I’d been spying on her or anything.”

"But you had been!" Sirius said, coming into the room. He pushed Dora's feet out of the way and sat down on the settee.

“Well, yeah, but not intentionally,” Harry said, frowning at his godfather. "I mean, at first I thought someone was getting beat up or something, and then when I saw what it was I was just…too gobsmacked to say anything. And then I felt weird for standing there.”

Sirius smirked at him. “Was she fit?”

“Sirius!” Harry exclaimed, feeling annoyed. “Not the point of this story!”

Sirius laughed and looked at Remus and Dora. “She was fit.”

Harry stood up, feeling exasperated. "There's some mad girl kicking the stitching out of footballs out there in the middle of the night, and all you can wonder about is if I fancied her?"

Sirius sobered and then raised his hands at Harry, indicating he should calm down. “I’m sorry, Harry. You’re right. Not the point of the story. Er, what was the point of the story again?”

Remus cleared his throat and gave Sirius a pointed look. “I think Harry was concerned about her…welfare. Do you think you should have stayed and made sure she was all right?”

Harry shrugged. “She was all right, that’s the point. She cried for 2.5 seconds and then acted like nothing was wrong and started picking up her gear. It was strange.”

“Perhaps she just needed to let off some steam,” Dora offered. “Sometimes us gals get fed up with a lot of things. Of course, I am not sure I’d be kicking footballs in the dead of night in the middle of some dodgy field, but then again…I read too many detective stories for my own good.”

Harry laughed, thinking she had a point. It wasn't any of his business, anyway. He started to head upstairs, suddenly feeling dead tired. It must have been all the wine he’d had at dinner. He said his goodnights, and before he could reach the staircase, Dora called his name.

“Oi! Potter! I forgot to give you this. New Ian Rankin finally. Catch!”

Harry turned as a book came sailing through the air at him. He caught it nimbly with his fingers and smiled at her. "Thanks, Tonks. You know I've wanted to get this one since last year."

“I know, and don’t call me Tonks. Or I’ll never lend you another book again.”

Harry smirked and headed upstairs, thinking he might read a few chapters before turning in for the night. There was always energy enough for a new mystery to be started.

o-o-o-o-o-o


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens and Harry has an unnerving experience in a nightclub. Who will come to his rescue?

Chapter 2:

A few days later, it was Saturday – the day of the blind date – and Harry spent most of the day helping Sirius with a few of the dogs at his kennel. Sirius was an excellent trainer and was reasonably well known; people came from all over the West Country just to have him work with their dogs. Once or twice a year, Sirius traveled throughout the country as a trustworthy and respected judge for the dog show circuit.

"So, what are you wearing tonight, godson?" Sirius asked him as they were finishing up. Most of the owners had come to pick up their pets, but a few dogs always stayed over, and Sirius liked to make sure they were well cared for before he left. 

Harry squinted at him in the sunlight. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Clothes, I reckon. Don’t know if I want her going all faint at the sight of me in my altogether on the _first_ date, Sirius.”

Sirius smirked at him. "Stop taking after me, or I'll get another Remus lecture about being a positive role model. Honestly, Harry, you pulled a girl who worked as a fashion designer! Cho never gave you any tips?”

Harry looked down at his clothes, frowning. “Cho was a _female_ sports designer, Sirius. What could she advise me on, exactly? The right sports bra to wear?”

Sirius barked out a laugh and shook his head at him. "Well, I didn't want to say anything, but you are getting a little developed in the …chestal area.”

“I am not! And…honestly, the _chestal_ area? Really? You’re saying I have man-breasts?”

Sirius pulled Harry over into a headlock and ruffled his hair, chuckling. “Only joking, kid. Well, this looks like a job for your old godfather to take on. Let’s get you home and cleaned up, so I know what I have to work with.”

"You know what you have to work with," Harry said pointedly. "You have me."

“Hope springs eternal, Harry,” Sirius said, wagging his eyebrows. Harry could only roll his eyes and laugh.

“Maybe I should talk to Remus instead; he at least _has_ a woman in his life.”

Sirius laughed. “True. But we both know Remus didn’t get Dora with flashy clothes. He had a stellar personality to fall back on.”

Harry pursed his lips at his godfather as they climbed into his old Jeep. “Thanks a lot. This is brilliant for my pre-date morale.”

“I’m only trying to loosen you up and make you laugh, kid. Come on, let’s grab a bite to eat at that new curry place that opened up. What’s it called again? I have the menu in the glove box. It’s bright orange.”

Harry peered at Sirius’s stash of takeaway menus (he was famous for it, actually) and pulled out the brightest orange paper he could see. 

“Er, it’s called Punjab’s Pearl.”

“Excellent! Let’s get Remus some extra spicy Tikka Masala. He’ll love it.”

“Um, I’m not sure Dora will later when he er…” Harry let his voice trail off and made a gesture with his hand. Sirius cackled as they turned the corner near the restaurant. He found a space right near the door and smoothly backed his Jeep into it.

“You’re right, he is the only one with any kind of love life right now. But we’re gonna change that, right?” Sirius said as they hopped out of the Jeep and made their way towards the restaurant. They stood outside and looked at the menu before heading inside.

“I reckon. I mean, I hope,” Harry said absentmindedly.

“Don’t you want to go on this date?” Sirius asked as they waited in the short queue for the counter.

Harry shrugged. “I did. Er, I do. Maybe it's just nerves. You know I haven't been on a first date with anyone, but Cho, and that was ages ago when we were fifteen.”

“Yeah, staying with your secondary school sweetheart for so long does mean you’re a bit out of practice.”

Harry frowned. “I wasn’t even any good at it then, to be honest. I don’t know how I got Cho to go out with me in the first place.”

Sirius cracked a smile at him. “Because all Potter men are devilishly handsome and so full of charm that the female sex can’t help but fall for them. Or at least, that’s what your father always said. But come to think of it he only ever pulled your mother, so he might have been having me on.”

A quiet snort was heard, and Harry glanced at the woman standing in front of them in the queue. There was something about her that was vaguely familiar, and he frowned. Her hair was done up in a plait, and it was thrown haphazardly over her shoulder. But she had wrapped some sort of covering over it, making it look almost purple. Sirius continued on as though he hadn’t heard a complete stranger disparaging his previous remark.

“Just relax about tonight, all joking aside. It’s basically a meet and greet, and you'll be with friends. If you don't like this bird, just move on to the next one. That's what I always do. There’s plenty of them out there.”

Now Harry definitely heard a snort of derision and opened his mouth to say something when the queue finally moved, and it was the girl's turn to order. Harry saw her pull out what looked like a healthy list of dishes and sighed. She must be feeding an _army_.

Sirius was looking at him strangely. “Are you all right, Harry?”

Harry blinked at his godfather. While trying to get a glimpse of the woman’s face he had moved extremely close. He forced himself to step back and gave Sirius a sheepish look.

“Sorry, I thought I knew her,” Harry murmured as the woman finally finished and turned away from the counter. She hard large, dark glasses on, but Harry saw a few freckles on her face, reminding him of something he’d seen in a photograph.

“Maybe you should cancel tonight’s date and go chat up Miss Mystery over there,” Sirius said after they ordered.

Harry felt annoyed. “She was laughing at what you were saying to me! I thought it was rude that she was listening.”

Sirius merely raised his eyebrow at him. "You could just practice on her. You know, chat her up. Brush up those skills.”

Harry kept his mouth shut. He glanced at the woman as she stood off to the side, staring down at what seemed to be the same model of mobile that he had just bought for himself. She was dressed in fairly tight-fitting jeans, and Harry couldn't help but admire the view. She was short, but had long legs. At least in those jeans it appeared she did, and her arse was quite…

Harry was broken out of his reverie by a hearty laugh in his ear. He turned back to Sirius to see a knowing look on his godfather’s face. Harry felt his skin heat.

“Shut it, Sirius,” he muttered.

Sirius just smirked at him, and they both watched as the woman’s order was called out, and she went to collect it. It took three bags just to hold all the food, but she handled it gracefully, Harry had to admit. He felt himself breathe a little easier as soon as the door closed behind her. Sirius merely lifted his eyebrows at him and remained surprisingly silent.

They drove home and then ate, with Remus noting that the Tikka Masala seemed spicier than usual. Harry shook his head at Sirius as his godfather bit back a laugh, and he went upstairs to shower. He was still thinking of the girl they'd seen in the restaurant. Who listened to other people's conversations? Sirius hadn't precisely been talking quietly, but still. Harry hoped she wasn’t a reporter or some busybody. That would be just what he needed – a story about how he was a dateless wonder and didn’t know how to chat up a woman.

When he came out of the shower, a garment bag was lying across his bed, and Harry shook his head. Sirius had penned a simple note to it –Wear this! Get shagged! – with a rough illustration of a large, smiling dog. Harry unzipped the bag and realized it was one of Sirius’s suits, a dark green one that looked like it had now been tailored to fit him. He heard a noise from his doorway and turned around to see Sirius putting Remus into his chair, and they both looked in at him.

“When did you get this done? It looks like it’ll fit great,” Harry said, unzipping the garment bag a bit more.

“When you told us you were ready to start dating again. I know you have some fancy clothes in your wardrobe that you wore for publicity events and whatnot, but you never really managed to get a decent suit. That is a single-breasted and every man needs one, Harry. I have fond memories of that suit, you know.”

Harry raised his eyebrow, almost afraid to ask what his godfather meant by that. Remus laughed.

“He means he wore it to your parent’s wedding, Harry.”

“I remember I was trying to find something that James and Lily would both like. Lily liked the cut of the suit, and James liked the color," Sirius said, coming into the room. "You're going to look fantastic in this, Harry. Go out and knock all the ladies dead.”

Harry felt a swell of emotion and lay the suit back on the bed. He threw his arms around his godfather. “Thank you, Sirius. This means…this means so much to me.”

Sirius hugged him back briefly and then pulled away. "Sorry I couldn't do anything about that hornet’s nest you call hair, but I am but a mere mortal and can only do so much. Hope the bird likes strategically mussed hair on a bloke.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. They left him alone to get ready, and Harry took the suit further out of the garment bag and hung it up on his bathroom door. He had a good feeling about tonight, suddenly. He knew the suit would bring him _some_ sort of luck.

o-o-o-o-o

A few hours later, Harry was not only convinced that luck had utterly passed him by, but it must have also given him the two-finger salute. The evening had started off nice enough. He'd met Ron and Hermione at the Dragon, said hello to Hagrid, Romilda had arrived, and they had greeted each other. As the dinner went on, Harry felt more comfortable. Especially with Ron and Hermione there. But Romilda seemed reticent and non-talkative, which was fine to Harry - (he didn’t need a woman to continually be talking all the time), but it didn't come off as shyness so much as snobbishness. Or perhaps she was just bored. Still, Harry knew she must have _some_ personality, as Hermione didn’t strike him as the type to befriend a total waste of space. But he had also noticed Hermione trying to get her friend to talk as well, so perhaps it was just nerves.

After paying their separate tabs, Ron and Hermione had asked them to come back to theirs for afters, but Romilda had claimed an early start the next day. They said goodbye to the other couple, and Harry had thought that was that. A slightly dull date that was at least spent in good company in the form of Ron and Hermione with excellent grub from Hagrid. His new chef, Norbert, was really knocking it out of the park as far as Harry was concerned.

Only when Romilda was hailing a cab did she turn to Harry, a wide, inviting smile on her face. She had winked at him and asked he’d wanted to join her for a nightcap at a club that was nearby. Her hand had lingered on his chest, moving slowly down the front of his suit. While he hadn't felt that same feeling in his chest as he had for the red-headed woman he'd watched a month ago, he felt _something_. So for whatever reason (and Harry knew precisely which part of his body had made the decision), he’d said yes.

And now here he was. Sitting off to the side at a loud nightclub watching his date dance with another bloke. Life was just bloody brilliant.

Sighing, Harry figured he had about 20 minutes to go until his pint was done, and Romilda had forgotten about him entirely. He was a bit surprised when she returned, looking sweaty yet energized.

"Don't you want to dance?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him coyly.

“What happened to that other bloke you’ve been dancing with?”

"Oh, he went back to his date. Hermione never knew this, but I was a big fan of yours when you played football. I was dead chuffed when she suggested we meet. You looked quite fit in your footie gear, and that suit fits you perfectly. I see you’ve kept in shape."

Romilda leaned over until she was practically on Harry's lap, and he frowned at her. What was she playing at? Ignore him at dinner by not saying more than a few words, suddenly flirt with him, get him to go to a nightclub, dance most of the night away with some other man, and now she was crawling into his lap blathering on about his football uniform? Harry had had enough.

“I need to use the loo,” he said, standing up quickly. Apparently she had not been expecting that as she suddenly pitched forward. Romilda gracefully managed to right herself and gave him a little smile.

“Hurry back. I want at least one dance with the famous Harry Potter.”

Harry’s stomach lurched. _Oh, she was one of those. Bugger._ He gave her a tired smile and then turned around, going anywhere that could hide him from Romilda Vane. He didn’t care if he had to spend the next hour standing next to the toilets – Harry was done.

Harry wandered around on the other side of the club and banged his head against the wall in frustration. He would have to insist that Hermione implement some sort of screening for any further dates. And he wasn’t going to date anyone who liked football or knew of him from football. Or had even once touched a football. It was the only way to be safe from what he liked to call the groupie mentality of certain women.

“Sorry, don’t mean to interrupt your er, head injury tactics, but I just saw that girl you’re with put something in your drink. If you go back over there, I wouldn’t drink anything she’s been able to touch.”

Harry snapped his head around and saw a woman standing next to him. She was shorter than he was, but not by much, and had a weird sort of turban thing around her head. He frowned at it, and she mistook his look for something else.

“Right, well, enjoy your evening getting taken advantage of then. Sorry to have bothered you.”

She turned to go, but Harry quickly reached out and touched her arm. Her skin felt smooth and silky, and he let his fingers linger more than he probably should have. She frowned down at his hand, and he quickly pulled it back.

“Sorry, I wasn’t angry at you, I was just looking at your…” Harry paused and nodded towards her head. “Thank you for warning me. I’m not even sure what I’m doing here with her.”

The woman looked him up and down, and he noticed she had a fair amount of makeup on, making her skin look like porcelain in the club lighting. Her simple black dress looked surprisingly elegant, in contrast to everyone else. The material stretched across her shoulders, which were covered by a sheer fabric that held tiny rhinestones that sparkled in the lights.

“Do you really want to get rid of her?”she finally asked, glancing at him and then looking away. He'd had the sensation of two warm brown eyes staring back at him. He was about to ask what she meant when her eyes darted behind him, and she made a face. She whispered, “Hang on tiger.”

Before Harry even knew what was happening, she was kissing him, using her legs to turn him around and to push him back up against the wall. He felt her body against his – warm, breathing, _intoxicating_ , and amazing in all the right places. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d been snogged by a complete stranger, let alone a complete stranger that had a body like hers. It took him exactly three seconds to respond, and he wrapped his arms around her, practically pulling her off the ground. He didn't know how long they kissed, but it honestly wasn’t long enough to Harry. The scent of something floral hit his senses, and he sighed.

"Oh, this is a fine thing!" A shrill voice came from over the woman's shoulder, and Harry managed to somehow pull himself away from her brilliant lips and could only stare blankly at a seething Romilda Vane. The woman in Harry's arms turned around, and he sucked in a breath as she moved her hips against his.

“He’s found a better opportunity, you daft cow, so get lost.”

Romilda narrowed her eyes at them. “Pardon me?”

“Er, Romilda, why don’t we just agree we’re not meant to be and call it a night?” Harry suggested, hoping she would listen to reason.

Romilda looked as though she wanted to cause a scene, and Harry felt his stomach swoop in disappointment – he could already see the morning headlines: Former Footballer Harry Potter in Night Club Brawl! Nearby couples were starting to pay more attention.

“I took a picture with my mobile of you slipping something into this bloke’s drink, so why don’t you just _fuck off_ , Romilda.” The woman in his arms pushed away from him, her voice taking on a menacing sound. Harry frowned and was going to step in between them when he saw Romilda’s expression change. For a brief moment, it looked like recognition. Romilda continued to look at the woman in front of him with narrowed eyes. She finally turned to him, a nasty smile on her face.

"Fine, you can have him. He's a has-been anyway, not like _Thomas_.” Romilda raised her eyebrow at the woman, and then turned abruptly away, her hair flying out behind her. The woman who had kissed him stood there for a moment watching her leave. Harry could tell she was upset by the deep breaths of air she was taking in.

“Are you all right?” He finally asked her, pulling her out of the way of two drunks stumbling by. He was surprised by the steely look on her face. She nodded.

“I’m sorry I kissed you like that. I don’t normally throw myself at unsuspecting blokes. Sorry. I owed her for something, and I thought it would make me feel better, but it hasn’t. I don’t reckon you want to press charges against her, do you?” She raised her mobile in her hand, and he remembered her mentioning a photo she'd taken.

“Er, well…” Harry paused, not sure of what to say. He honestly didn’t want to get involved, which she seemed to sense, judging by the slump of her shoulders.

“It’s fine. You’re a complete stranger, and I know you don’t want to get involved in this mess. I'm sorry again. But, if you change your mind...” She pulled a pen and small piece of paper out of a beaded bag she had wrapped around her wrist. After scribbling something on it, she offered the paper to him.

When he didn’t move to take it, she turned to go, her shoulders dropping again. Harry suddenly reacted before he could really think his actions through. "Wait! I…what's your name, at least…I mean, I…that was some kiss.” He sounded like a complete prat.

Her mouth twitched into a small smile as she gazed at him. “It was, wasn’t it?” She moved closer to him and held the sides of his face with her hand. “I wish I’d met you earlier.”

Before Harry could get the words 'earlier than what?' out of his mouth, she was stretching upwards slightly and kissing him again. He felt her hand dip into his breast pocket, but his senses were being filled by her, and he disregarded it. But the kiss turned out to be just a small one – her mouth only briefly touching his, and then she was gone, slipping away into the crowd. Taking her floral scent and brilliant lips with her.

He could only stare at the empty space where she had been and run his fingers against his lips in frustration.

o-o-o-o-o

The next morning, Harry groaned as his mobile went off. He growled as the cheery ring tong Sirius had switched it to blared loudly through his room _and_ his head.

“What?” Harry barked as he rolled over, throwing an arm over his eyes to block the light coming from his window.

“Blimey, Harry, need a refresher course in phone manners?" Ron's voice cackled at him, and Harry groaned.

“Do you know what time it is?” Harry asked, lowering his voice.

Ron laughed. “Yeah, of course, but the real question is, Harry, do you? You were due for lunch about half an hour ago. Crikey, Romilda’s not still there is she?”

Harry groaned again and threw the phone down on the bed. After a moment of taking in deep breaths to calm himself, Harry picked it up again.

“No, and thank God for that. You need to seriously have Hermione do background checks on these nutters, Ron. I don’t even understand how your wife could be friends with her! That girl has completely lost the plot. She tried to drug me!”

"What in the…seriously? You'd better come over, and we'll talk this out. How soon can you find yourself upright?"

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Give me a few, and I’ll be over. I’m actually surprised Sirius or Remus haven’t been knocking on my door yet.”

After a few more moments, they rang off, and Harry forced himself to sit up. He noticed a tall glass of water and a small bottle of paracetamol next to his bed. He smiled, his uncle had definitely been in to check on him. He took a long drink of the water and then threw back the tablets, hoping they’d do their magic quickly. At least the room wasn’t spinning.

Harry grabbed some clothes and took a quick shower. He was making his way downstairs when he heard Sirius laughing. He came across him and Dora talking in the kitchen, both holding coffee cups.

“Oh God, please tell me there is still coffee,” Harry exclaimed, brushing past them to the coffee machine. He sighed in relief as he saw there was a bit left. He quickly poured it into a cup and grabbed the creamer that was still on the counter. Harry closed his eyes as he took a long sip, experiencing the wonderful alchemy of hot water and ground coffee beans soothing his weary soul. When he finally opened his eyes again, Sirius and Dora were both silently laughing at him.

“You two wanna be alone?” Dora asked, nodding at his cup.

"Should I be worried that you're acting extremely rude and not taking one up to the lady friend I pray to God stayed the night or depressed because you didn’t get a leg over?”

Harry grimaced at Sirius. "It was a first date, Sirius. A blind first date at that. No one is that smooth, and no, I don't want to hear that yes, once upon a time, you were indeed, that smooth.”

Dora guffawed as Sirius looked insulted at Harry’s statement. “I don’t think I raised you to talk to me like this, godson.”

Harry fixed his eye on his godfather. “Yes, yes, you did. And you know it.”

Sirius’s face broke into a wide grin. “Was the date that horrible?”

Harry sighed. "Honestly, you have no idea. But I'm off to Ron and Hermione’s, they get the first crack at my tale of woe, sorry. I'll fill you lot in at dinner. You cooking, or should I expect pizza?"

“I’m cooking, so don't ruin your appetite, young man," Sirius said, laughing. "Dora, are joining us tonight? You are more than welcome."

“No, I know how you three like your close-knit male bonding time in the kitchen. Besides, I have to work. Double shift. I’ll just go say goodbye to Remus." Dora smiled at Harry. "Sorry, the date didn't work out. You'll get 'em next time, and if not, between the two of us, we both know where to hide the bodies."

Harry laughed and nodded as Dora planted a small kiss on his cheek. He spent a few more moments just enjoying his coffee while Sirius started the dishwasher. "See ya later," Harry said, beginning to leave. Sirius called after him.

“Hey, I’m really sorry it didn’t turn out how you wanted, Harry. But at least the suit looked good, right?”

“It did,” Harry agreed. "It was actually the best part of the whole evening. Well…" Harry paused, thinking of the strange woman who had kissed him, a thought tugging at his memory. “There may have one or two other good parts, in retrospect.”

“Oh?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. “Now that sounds encouraging, Harry.”

“I’ll tell you later, I promise,” Harry said, laughing. "If I tell you now, I'll just have to repeat it for Remus."

He heard Sirius mutter something like always the bridesmaid under his breath and smiled as he grabbed his jacket. He couldn't wait to tell Ron and Hermione about the mysterious girl who snogged first and explained later.

o-o-o-o-o

Harry and Ron were enjoying a nice lunch out on the patio of the couple’s house. Hermione had asked for the details of Harry’s night and then disappeared. Harry had a sinking feeling of where she had scarpered off to. He just hoped Romilda didn't suddenly feel the need to contact him about it all. Honestly, what had she been thinking?

“So this strange woman snogs you, saves you from getting taken advantage of, and then leaves you wanting more without even telling you her name?" Ron was asking, sounding incredulous.

Harry smiled. “Yeah. If it hadn’t actually happened to me, I might think someone was taking the piss.”

The slamming of the front door of the house caused both men to stop eating as the kitchen window next to them rattled.

“Uh oh,” Ron said, putting his fork down. They both turned their heads expectedly to the open doorway as Hermione came storming through it.

“Of all the bloody cheek!” she exclaimed, throwing herself into the empty chair next to Ron. “I went over to Romilda’s to fully understand what had happened last night, and she told me off! She said I should know better than to fix her up with a dud! And to sort out my family problems which I didn’t understand at all! Oh, sorry, Harry, I don’t think you’re a dud. When I knew Romilda before she wasn’t like this, but apparently she came down with footballer fever while we were away. According to the brief phone call I just had with Ginny, Romilda’s working her way through most of the players out there!”

Ron patted his wife’s hand, absentmindedly. “Romilda was always a bit off to me, love. You just always want to think the best of people. And to be fair, she can come off as being extremely…normal when she wants to.”

Hermione looked at Ron aghast. “Why didn’t you tell me this before I decided to set her up with poor Harry?”

Ron scratched the back of his neck and gave his wife a careful look. “Er, I did, actually.”

Hermione’s expression grew confused. “But I just thought that was you being your usual self. You never think anyone is good enough for Ginny, so I thought you felt the same way about Harry.”

Harry shook his head at his friends. “It’s okay, guys. Nothing happened thanks to that woman who came to my rescue. I reckon it was lucky she saw Romilda put something in my drink at the very least.”

Hermione's brow furrowed. "You didn’t tell me that part, Harry. What happened?”

Harry quickly filled her in, and Hermione frowned at the end of his tale. "So she didn't even give you her name? And she confronted Romilda like she knew her? How…odd.”

“She was probably embarrassed she snogged me like that, to be honest. Or at least, she seemed to be. She apologized. And…” Harry paused, remembering something. “Wait! I think she may have slipped something in my pocket the second time she kissed me. Maybe she left me her phone number?"

“You should check when you get home,” Ron said, turning back to his food. “Maybe the evening wasn’t an entire loss.”

Harry nodded, and they finished their lunch. Hermione kept apologizing to Harry about her horrible first choice of a setup, and he reassured her it was okay. As he was leaving, Hermione impulsively hugged him.

"I am sorry, Harry. Next time I will make sure it's someone I really know and not just someone from work. Although that does narrow your prospects down a bit.” Hermione gave him a lopsided grin.

“It’s fine, Hermione. I wasn’t expecting much, to be honest. I don’t think you get what you and Ron have on the first try, anyway. I was just looking for someone to hang out with and get to know a little bit.”

“And someone to snog, too,” Ron said, coming up behind them. “You know there’s a really fit female coach at work you might like…”

“Ron, you said you worked with mostly men and old women!”

Harry snorted as Hermione glared at her husband. Ron’s ears turned pink. “She’s new?” he said, giving his wife an innocent look.

Harry left them to that discussion, telling them they could meet up during the week for dinner at The Dragon. He headed home feeling a bit better about everything. He reminded himself to check his suit pocket from the night before to see if the mystery woman had indeed left him her phone number.

o-o-o-o-o

That evening Harry found himself sitting in front of his computer, frowning. She hadn't left him her number, but she had left him her email. "What am I supposed to do with this?" Harry wondered out loud.

“Well, you could just write her,” Remus’s voice care from his bedroom doorway, and Harry guiltily looked up at his uncle.

“I'm not that good with words, I mean, I don't think I am," Harry said, frowning at the piece of paper. He’d really been hoping it was a phone number. Harry was better in person, or at least, he was on the phone. He tended to be less awkward, for one thing. Cho had always said he had a sexy voice on the phone. While the team was on away games sometimes the phone had been the only way he and Cho had kept their relationship alive. Not that it had helped them all that much in the end.

"Letter writing is a lost art, or it will be soon, I think. Your father used to write to your mother when they were separated by school or work. Lily said your father could be quite lyrical when he wanted to be.”

“My Dad used to write my Mum letters?” Harry asked, a bit stunned. He’d never known this.

"When James was finishing up with his schooling, and Lily was already at home. He'd write her a couple times a week, I believe. Used to drive Sirius crazy.”

“Why?”

“Probably something to do with James wasting time writing instead of going out to the pubs with him,” Remus said, smirking. He nodded at the paper in Harry’s hand. “Is that from the woman who kissed you?” Harry had, as promised, related the whole ordeal to his uncle and godfather at dinner. He could still hear Sirius’s laughter in his head.

Now Harry felt his skin heat and gave his uncle a self-conscious grin. “Yeah. Do you think she wants me to contact her?”

“I would assume that is why she slipped it into your pocket, after all. Well, I’ll you get on with it,” Remus said, giving him a knowing smile.

Harry sighed and stared at the address: Redflash6@hotmail.co.uk

“Well, here goes nothing,” Harry mumbled and opened up his mail server. After staring at a blinking cursor for far too long, he finally started writing.

_Dear Redflash –_

_I would have written “Dear Your Name," but of course, you didn't give me your name, even though you gave me a fairly decent snog and then cruelly left me standing there, missing you and your lips. So, I reckon I’ll just call you Red for now and see where that takes us._

_I do hope you meant to slip this email address into my suit pocket so that I would contact you. If you didn’t, then I’m sorry for bothering you. But I’m not the type of bloke (despite standing around in a nightclub on a Saturday night) that randomly gets snogged within an inch of his life by strange women, and I can't seem to let it go._

_So I’m sending this in the hopes that this email does actually find you agreeable to continuing our conversation, or at the very least, we could start one since we've already done the hard part and snogged._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry (notice how I quite easily give you my name with little to no ambiguity involved)_

Harry re-read the letter twice before sighing and hitting the send button. Well, that’s all there is to it, he thought. She'd either write him back, or she'd laugh and ignore him. But Harry hoped she would write. He shut down his computer, slightly frustrated. He had initially intended to go over some documents for his sports centers, but he wasn't in the mood anymore. 

Harry’s eyes alighted on the book Dora had given him last week and smiled. He was almost at the part where the murderer was revealed. Harry loved trying to figure out who the guilty party was. Grabbing the book and throwing himself on his bed, he figured he was owed a little reading time for himself.

o-o-o-o-o

Harry was finally going through the sport centers’ paperwork when the little flag on his email box popped up, a small yet loud _ding!_ echoing from the computer’s speakers. Frowning, he adjusted the sound and then opened the email.

_Dear Harry,_

_Yes, I did mean to give you this address so that you might contact me. I was hoping you’d noticed. Afterwards, of course, I was scandalized about how bold I'd been. As I said, I rarely, if ever, kiss strange men in nightclubs. If I am honest with myself, I have to say that I wanted you to contact me for reasons other than getting that girl into trouble._

_So, here we are. I admit I was happy to see your email this morning. I am assuming this means you did not go home with her? Hopefully, you were able to get away unscathed. She is a nasty piece of work, and I strongly caution you to rethink any sort of relationship with her._

_You had such a kind look about you (it must have been the glasses, I have a soft spot for men who wear glasses), and I was hoping that she’d not been able to sink her claws into you. I do prefer my men to be without claw marks and scratch-free._

_Sincerely,_

_Red (notice how I quite easily deflected the name question and threw all sorts of new ambiguity out there at you)_

Harry snorted to himself, shaking his head. He hit the reply button before he could think and started crafting his reply.

_Dear Red:_

_I am glad that the sight of me wearing my glasses enticed you enough to be so bold (It usually has the opposite effect on members of your sex, believe it or not)._

_I am not involved with the person you saved me from. That was, quite auspiciously enough, our first (and last) date. Even before what happened, we were not getting along. I was actually hiding from her on the other side of the club when you approached me. (Am I impressing you yet with my complete and utter manliness? Oh, some girls get all the luck)_

_She had been a setup, a blind date if you will, and that is all I can say about it._

_Fine, you won’t tell me your name. I do admit the idea of using Red is enticing to me, as I have always had a fondness for that color. Does red refer to a preference of yours as well or is it your hair color? I have never dated a ginger, but a man can dream. ;-) And hope. And pray._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry (who hopes that last bit was deft and pointed enough to garner a confirmation)_

Harry smiled to himself and hit send, feeling a spark of happiness within him. Maybe there was something to this whole letter writing thing, after all.

o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, very many thanks to the amazing Narukoibito for her lovely beta work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As his developing relationship with Red grows over email, Harry goes for dinner at the Weasleys and finally meets the elusive sister, Ginny. How will she react?

Chapter 3:

Harry eagerly opened up his email, as was becoming his habit as of late. He was only partially aware of the huge grin that had appeared on his face as soon as he saw Redflash’s name pop up in his in-box.

_Harry –_

_I have to admit something to you. I know who you are. I didn’t say anything before this because I wasn’t certain we were going to keep “talking” this way. But I also have to admit, I have been enjoying these little notes of ours. It’s almost a form of virtual flirting, isn’t it?_

_When I say I know who you are, I mean, of course, your playing career. I can’t claim to know you any other way, personally. I will say I thought you were one of the best center-backs the game has ever seen, and it was a sad day for all true football fans when you decided to retire. But I understand why you opted for that choice. I think the work you’re doing now with your Sports Centers is lovely. There are not many (if any) players in the game these days that would do anything that required giving back to anyone but themselves. I have a friend who was personally helped by one of your centers, and she thinks you’re a hero._

_I know it seems an unfair advantage for me to know you and not to come clean about who I am. But I have had a few issues in the past with being too open, too soon, and I would like to be safer than sorry at this point. Can you understand that? Minus the personal-who I am- details, I do promise to honestly answer any questions you have._

_Yes, I have red hair. A tragedy for most of my life – gingers do get picked on while little, especially girls – it has now turned into a boon. ;-) Meaning: I am quite glad you like the color and the hair._

_I hope you will continue to write me back after this – in a short while, your letters have become a highlight of my day. But if not, cheers and au revoir. That’s French, you know. A redhead who speaks French. Imagine the possibilities!_

_-Red-_

Harry reread the letter again and stared at it for a while. He was both confused and relieved. Confused, because he didn't understand why she couldn't just tell him who she was. And relieved because he had been wondering how to tell her he was a former 'celebrity' who was still rather well-known. Harry had actually been composing paragraphs in his head – _oh, hey, are you familiar with football? I used to play, you know, professionally…_ had sounded smoother inside his head rather than on the screen.

Harry sighed, the cursor for the reply button blinking at him for attention. After he thought it through, he realized he didn’t care that she wouldn’t tell him who she was. He reckoned that she had her reasons, and they were probably good ones. Harry could understand her wanting to protect herself from weirdos on the internet. If he had a sister, he'd likely advise her to do the same, as Ron probably would too. Maybe Harry would ask his friend later if his sister had any issues. He hit reply and took a deep breath.

_Red-_

_Thank you for letting me know. I admit I had been trying to come up with a way to tell you about my ‘professional’ career without sounding like a prat. Now I can sound like a prat about other things much more important! Aren’t you lucky?_

_You’re right, it does seem an unfair advantage, but nevertheless, I do understand it. The internet is a weird place sometimes, and I would assume it is even weirder for women. I am sorry you have had issues in the past with it. I am assuming that is what you meant?_

_I appreciate the promise of honesty, and I grant you that same promise. I too, have begun to look forward to our little notes throughout the day. And it is very much like flirting. Albeit, a prolonged form of flirting. But I like it. I can think of my response better this way. Usually, with girls, I am nervous and utter bollocks. (Hard to believe, I know. At least, I hope it’s hard to believe?)_

_I have to tell you that when you admitted to having red hair (remember all I saw of it that night was that turban monstrosity you’d wrapped it in), a little part of me jumped for joy. And a big grin may or may not have graced my face at the thought. So yes, it is a boon, among other things._

_I am glad to hear of your friend’s good experience with the Centers. That was my goal in creating them - helping kids that might not have anywhere else to turn and getting them off the streets. Since you know who I am, you know my parents were taken from me at an early age, and thank god I had my godfather and my uncle to raise me. Also, thankfully, I had football to help discipline me and teach me important life-lessons, or otherwise, I’m not sure how I would have turned out. But please tell your friend I am not a hero. That makes me feel odd, just writing that. As my godfather will tell you, I leave far too many dirty clothes everywhere, and I have unbelievably smelly feet to be a hero. Also, I'm relatively grumpy until I've had my first cup of coffee in the morning._

_I’m just throwing that out there for future reference. No reason. But you do own a coffee maker, I trust?_

_Jusqu'à la Prochaine Fois –_

_Harry (I impressed you there, come on, admit it)_

Harry hit send and smiled. He had shared a bit more than he’d wanted, but it was good. In fact, it was brilliant. Harry felt as though he was genuine with this woman, whoever she was. It was strange because he already sort of knew what she looked like and he knew he liked it. Remembering that kiss almost made him blush. Because now that he knew she was a person beneath it all – a person with feelings and a sense of humor and everything else, it made it all the more _exciting_.

“Did the computer just make you happy?” Sirius’s voice broke him out of his daydreams, and Harry blinked up at his godfather.

“No, I was just…thinking,” Harry said.

“You still writing that girl from the club?” Sirius said, coming into his room and sitting down on the bed. Harry turned in his chair and nodded, suddenly feeling silly.

"She, er, knows who I am. I mean, she told me she knows I'm "Harry Potter – Football Player." Harry raised his hands and made the gesture for quotations. "I'm a bit relieved really, I wasn't sure how I was going to tell her that."

“And did she tell you who _she_ was?” Sirius asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“No, she…she still wants me to call her Red. But she said she’s had problems in the past being too open with that stuff, so I’ve decided she has a point.”

“Just don’t fall too hard, godson.”

Harry frowned. “I’m not. But I like her, Sirius. I like her a lot. There’s something about her personality that comes through. She’s…it’s nice to read her letters. That’s all.”

Sirius tutted under his breath and got up. He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Being careful works for both sides, Harry. You have such a giving heart, just don’t let it be taken advantage of.”

“I won’t,” Harry said, nodding at him.

Sirius grinned at him and ruffled his hair. “Come on, you can help me at the kennel today.”

“Oh? I can?” Harry asked, smirking as he got up.

“Yeah, you need some sunlight on that deathly pale skin of yours. You have a future bird to prepare for. You need to look fit and tan.”

Harry snorted as they headed downstairs. “I don’t tan, Sirius. I burn. And then become pale once again. I don't even get freckles."

Harry stopped, wondering suddenly if Red had freckles, like Ron and his family. He didn’t think he’d noticed any on her, but then again, the nightclub did have dodgy lighting, and she had been fairly covered up. Sirius looked at him.

“Er, hello? Harry?” He waved a hand in front of Harry’s face, catching his attention. Harry smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I got distracted wondering if Red had freckles. She confirmed she’s a ginger.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. "Oh, Lord, do you have it bad, already. Just like your father. Potter men and their red-heads.”

“Hey, Cho had black hair!” Harry said, not sure what point he was making, but feeling put out, anyway.

"Yes, she did, but…" Sirius paused and looked at his godson, his face sobering. "I never thought Cho was going to be the one for you, Harry. I liked her fine, but…I wasn’t surprised when you broke up. I always felt as though you two were together out of obligation more than anything.”

Harry frowned. “Obligation?”

Sirius sighed and nodded at the sofa, so they sat down. “You two got together so young, and then you got your football contract, and Cho's work started to get noticed. You were both sort of clinging to each other in the sea of all of that. Don’t get me wrong, I did like her, but she always seemed a bit too…cold fish to me.”

Harry looked at his godfather in dismay. “You never told me this before! What do you mean, cold fish?”

“Well,” Sirius paused and then sighed. He gave Harry a direct look. It was a look that alerted Harry that he probably wouldn’t like what his godfather was about to say.

“How was the sex?”

Harry felt his face heat and looked away and then back at his godfather. “It was… adequate.” As soon as the word was out of his mouth, Harry groaned. He looked at Sirius, who had merely raised his eyebrow at him. “That was the worst word to use, wasn’t it?”

“What do you think?”

Harry sighed. “We got on fine, you know. She’s very clever, Cho. And polite. And she liked me before…”

"Before you became famous, I know, Harry. Like I said, I think both of you clung to that for a long time. But how did she make you feel? Did you feel like you couldn’t get enough of her every time you were together?”

Harry frowned. “At first, yeah, I mean, sex was…you know.” Harry paused and rolled his eyes. “It was new. But…I reckon that wore off?”

“I’m gonna tell you a secret, Harry. Your mum and dad knew each other forever and were together for years before they got married. And you know what? They still couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Whether it was just watching the telly or cooking or just sitting together, Lily and James always needed to be touching. I sort of want that for you, too. I want some bird to drive you crazy, to make you forget your own name. Every single time.”

Harry swallowed roughly. “But is that even…is that even possible? That kind of passion?”

Sirius sighed. "I hope so. I'm old enough to stop believing it is, but God help me, I'm still out there looking for it. But then again, I’m not like you, either. You’re what we like to call ‘a one-woman man’. Very much like your father. When you fall, Harry, it’s gonna be hard and long and forever. I just have this feeling. So that’s why I told you to be careful, up there. Protect that big heart of yours.”

Sirius reached out and put his hand on Harry's chest. "Your parents are in here, and they agree. Don’t be afraid to be open and caring and full of love for someone else. But also, don't be an idiot."

Harry finally laughed, feeling touched. “Thanks. I’ll try.”

“Good, now come on. Work awaits us with wagging tails and loud barks.”

They headed out, and Harry felt cheered by their talk. He had admitted it in his email before, but he was fortunate he had such a great person in his godfather. Sirius always made him feel loved and understood. He knew if his Dad could see them now, he’d be happy and proud that he’d made such a fantastic choice of guardian.

o-o-o-o-o

_Harry –_

_I hate to burst your coffee bubble, but like all fine, upstanding Britons, I rely on that other magical elixir to give me strength throughout the day – Tea. Yes, I am a tea-totaler. I prefer a robust Earl Grey, brewed for days with one sugar and a splash of milk. My brothers used to tell me it would put hair on my chest when I was little girl, but that never stopped me from drinking it (I did so love to be contrary)._

_I bet you’re thinking of my un-hairy or possibly hairy chest now, aren’t you? ;)_

_-Red_

_Red-_

_Damn straight, I'm thinking of your chest now. I seem to recall a severe lack of hair sprouting up over that dress you were wearing, so I am going to safely say that strong tea did not put hair on your chest. Either that or you have a severe beauty regimen that requires waxes and shears and possibly some sort of powerful shaving device…_

_Alas. I reckon we will never be able to share breakfast together. Coffee is life._

_-Harry_

_P.S. So tell me more about what else you liked to be contrary about as a little girl. These tidbits of yours are definitely drawing a picture._

o-o-o-o-o

A few days later, Harry was at Ron's house, helping his friend store some boxes in the attic. They were almost finished, and Harry was glad. He didn't mind helping out – far from it, actually – but he had to admit his back was starting to whinge.

“Did I tell you? Percy got a promotion.” Ron was saying as Harry handed him one of the last boxes.

“Oh? What is he the head of now?”

"Well, if you ask my brothers and me, he’s Head Minister Of Prat-Hood, but strangely enough, everyone else wants to say he's now head of the local West Devon Transportation Ministry. Same difference, really.”

Harry laughed and then looked down to realize the next box was the last one and also, far too long. “Er, Ron, I don’t think this last one is going to fit up there.”

Ron swore and climbed down the little ladder that was hanging off the attic door. “Shite. Hermione told me to put that one up first. Now I’ll never hear the end of it. Hey, I know, we’ll put it in the study for now. It’s my extra room, really. She hardly goes in there. Come on, whoops-a-daisy.”

Harry bit back a laugh at Ron and picked up the other end of the long box. When they were finished, Harry looked at Ron.

“Whoops-a-daisy?”

Ron’s ears turned pink. “Yeah, my Mum says it. I reckon I’ve been spending too much time with them lately. Their expressions of old are rubbing off on me.”

“How are they doing?” Harry asked as they closed the attic up and headed downstairs.

“They’re fine. My dad is talking about retiring soon. And Mum is excited because Bill wrote and said he’s coming back home for a spell. She’s grandchild crazy, my Mum. She thinks the rest of us are never going to have kids or something.”

Ron poured them both some lemonade from a glass pitcher, and they went outside to sit in the garden.

"You know, you should come over tomorrow. Mum's having one of her big do's for Percy's promotion. It's really just an excuse for the mad lot of us to get together. She always hears Hermione and me talking about you. She's dying to meet you. For you, of course, not because you played footie."

Harry considered it and took a long drink. “Maybe I will, what time?”

"Hmm, 'round six, I guess. Ginny will be there.”

Harry saw Ron give him a furtive look and didn’t know why. He hadn’t expressed any particular desire to meet Ron’s temper-happy sister.

“Your sister still having a rough time?” Harry asked, mostly from lack of anything to say.

Ron sighed. “She’s doing better. Hermione seems to think she’s met someone that’s helping her take her mind off her previous troubles, but she won’t say anything more than that. We give Ginny a hard time, I have to say. Me and my brothers…we just don’t think there is anyone good enough for her. Well, I might be changing my mind about that.” Ron paused and gave Harry an unreadable look. “But she plays things close to the chest, our Ginny. Too many years of us giving any bloke she fancied a hard time. Of course, I reckon in the past we had some concern and reason for being over-protective. But I suppose I should start to trust her decisions. She is an adult now, after all.”

Harry didn’t really say anything, his mind was already turning to his own romantic life. The letters between him and _Red_ were continuing and even increasing in frequency. They now wrote each other two to three times a day. And they were getting to know each other reasonably well, to be honest. Harry thought he had a pretty good idea that the woman he was conversing with was more or less the most interesting, cleverest, funniest female he’d ever had the pleasure to meet. So to speak. 

“How’s your love life these days, Harry?” Ron finally asked, finishing off his lemonade.

“Fair. Actually, I’m still talking to the girl from the club.”

Ron appeared surprised. “What, really?”

Harry nodded. "Well, I say talk, but it's really just email. But we have some great conversations. It's sort of nice."

“And neither of you want to actually, I don’t know, meet each other? Talk on the phone, perhaps?”

Harry laughed at Ron’s expression. “I do, mate, trust me. But she wants to take it slow. And you know what? I like it that way, too.”

Ron frowned. "But by the time you two actually go out on a date, you'll have found out all about each other, and you'll have nothing more to say!"

“Oh, we’ll find things. She’s very clever. I can’t imagine ever being bored with her.”

Ron shook his head, and they made plans to go over to his parents together the next day. Hermione came home as Harry was leaving and gave him a huge smile.

“Harry! Sorry I missed you. He didn’t put you to work moving those boxes, did he?”

Harry caught Ron's expression, and dutifully shook his head. "No, I only lifted one, and then Ron told me to sit down and feel comfortable. I read one of your mystery books in there.”

Hermione had narrowed her eyes at her husband, but at Harry's words, she laughed. "Oh, well-played, you two. Like I'm going to believe Ron did all the work, and you just sat about and read. Pull the other one."

Harry looked at Ron, and they both shrugged as Hermione shook her head at them. "Are you coming to Molly and Arthur's tomorrow?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'll meet you two here, and we'll go in one car. Which works because I don't know where they live.”

“Good, Molly is dying to meet you. She’s a force to be reckoned with when it comes to cooking, make sure you bring your appetite,” Hermione said, joining arms with her husband, who nodded in agreement.

They said their goodbyes and Harry walked home. It'd been a few hours, and he hoped that he would have an email waiting for him when he got back.

o-o-o-o-o

_Harry-_

_I may not have a coffee machine, but I assure you I have plenty of other assets you will enjoy should we ever find ourselves in an 'eating breakfast together' type of situation. Other things can be life as well, you know. ;-)_

_Red-_

_It is the middle of the day, and suddenly I am finding it hard to concentrate. Who knew the word ‘assets’ was so bloody sexy? Perhaps I have been too abrupt in my need for coffee. O course, I've had three cups today and feel moderately caffeinated, so I'll likely agree to anything right now._

_Harry-_

_Three cups? Already? Did you use to play your matches with that much caffeine in your body? Bloody hell, no wonder you were known to have a lot of pace! I remember a particular game against Chelsea, where you were like a blur up and down the pitch! Now I know why!_

_Red –_

_You seem familiar with football…which I am going to assume means you like it. Do you, or have you played? Was that one of the contrary things you did as a little girl? I can just see it in my mind – your red hair in a ponytail as you tear down the field, making grown men quiver in fear… (notice how I am ignoring your jibes about my caffeine intake, you haven’t earned that privilege. Yet)_

_Harry –_

_Do you know what I love the most about playing football? The sheer…physicality of it. It’s like my mind is entirely focused on that one thing. Make the goal. Protect the ball. Clear the way. Whichever position I take, it’s the same. My brother (I have a brother, actually a couple, I’m sure I’ve mentioned this), used to be a goalie when he was younger. He taught me all I know about football._

_My dream was to play with the Lionesses, but it never happened. Mostly because my Mum told me to go on to university and have something to fall back on. In retrospect, she was right, but every now and then, I wonder about what might have been…_

_I practice still, just to help stay fit and keep my feet in. ;) I play with my family sometimes. Do you ever miss it? I know your injury caused you pain, or at least, that is what you said in your statement. But I was wondering if you ever got back on the pitch and allowed yourself the pure pleasure of just knocking the ball about. In the past, I would watch your games, and you often seemed to play with such utter joy. You always had this look on your face that you honestly couldn’t think of a better place to be than on that pitch, running with your teammates. I guess my real question is, do you still allow yourself to feel that happiness? Because it would make me a little sad to learn that you didn’t or couldn’t anymore…_

Harry paused in his reading and sighed. This was his second read-through of this particular letter, and it made him feel melancholy yet happy in a strange way. He was amazed by how much this woman seemed to understand him and know him. True, they had been exchanging a lot of letters, but Red just seemed to get him. The way Sirius or Remus got him. It was an exhilarating feeling, and yet it also made him sad too, because she was right. He _did_ miss being on the pitch – it had been the happiest he’d ever been in his entire life. The pain from the injury, Harry could live with. It had been knowing he was disappointing people sometimes, that had been the hard part.

Closing the window of his email, he started shutting down his computer. He had already replied to her, and he was due at Ron and Hermione's to go over to Ron’s parent's house. Something Ron had said yesterday had made Harry start to yearn for a slightly different way of communicating, to be honest.

Harry wondered how Red would react if he broached the subject of talking on the phone one night. It seemed the next logical step, to Harry. He just wasn’t sure why he hadn’t brought it up to her yet. Perhaps there was a part of Harry that didn’t want to frighten her away. Their letters had turned more personal and more in-depth, but she still had that ability to make him laugh. As well as her ability to make him feel… _other_ things. Things that made his stomach swoop and his body react. But Harry found himself wanting to match a tone of voice with her words. To see if he made _her_ laugh and what that sounded like and to see if he could make her feel things as well.

He bid goodnight to Dora and Remus, who were watching a movie on the downstairs television. Sirius had murmured something about a date and took off. Remus and Harry and merely looked at each other, neither one knowing anything to tell the other.

He showed up at Ron and Hermione’s just as they were locking their door. They climbed into Ron's car, and they were off, with Hermione explaining to Harry that he should expect total bedlam at the Weasleys and to just 'go with it.' Harry smiled, thinking that a large family must be a nice thing to have sometimes.

The Weasleys lived in Ottery St Catchpole, in south Devon. It had a country look to it that Harry liked. Their home was large and had a very lived-in appearance. He could tell different parts of it had been added through the years as the Weasley family had grown. Ron seemed a little embarrassed by it, but Harry thought it was brilliant. Right down to the cows off to the side of the house and the chickens in the front. It looked like a home where a lot of memories had been made. And a lot of love had been born.

As they walked up the stone path towards the main door, a stout yet friendly-looking woman waved at them. From her red hair and wide smile, Harry assumed this was the matriarch of the family, herself. She hugged Ron and Hermione and then smiled widely at Harry.

“And you must be Harry! Ron has told us so much about you, dear! I am so glad you two have become such good friends. I was sad to hear you had stopped playing last year. There were quite a few of us here that enjoyed watching your games, dear.”

"Uh, thanks, Mrs Weasley, it's a pleasure to finally meet you, too," Harry said, shaking her hand. Molly's eyes beamed at him.

“Come, you must meet Arthur, Ron’s father. And Fred and George are here already giving Percy a hard time, of course, and Ginny’s hiding somewhere. She might be coming down with something, she looked positively white as a sheet earlier when she found out you were coming, Harry. Hermione, come into the kitchen with me, I want to show you this new recipe I found…”

Molly and Hermione headed towards the house as Ron jerked his head at Harry, indicating he should follow him. Ron led him around back and over to an old sort of shed that looked about one heavy wind away from toppling over. Ron did a series of knocks on the door and smiled at Harry’s confusion.

"We have a secret knock, so he knows it's one of us and not Mum. She thinks he comes out here to watch the telly or garden or whatever. He actually uses it for his real hobby."

The door opened a moment later, and a man with red-hair like Ron's stuck his head out of the door. He had brown eyes and wore small spectacles that were currently perched on the end of his nose, giving him an owlish look.

“Ron! Good man. And this is?”

“Dad, this is Harry Potter, remember I told you we’d be bringing him to dinner?”

Arthur Weasley squinted at Harry. "Ah, so it is! So it is! A pleasure to meet you, Harry, now both of you get in here before Molly comes walking by."

Arthur pulled on Ron’s arm and yanked his son in quickly behind him. Harry shook his head and also moved into the shed. His ears were immediately filled with an insistent sort of buzzing, and Harry realized it was because they were surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of gadgets. Alarm clocks, stereos, old cd players, tape recorders, vacuum cleaners, lamps, fans, anything that was electric seemed to be there. All Harry could do is stare at everything in wonder.

Ron gave him an embarrassed look. “Er, my dad likes to take things apart and put them back together again. Drives Mum spare, but we love it. Us kids, I mean.”

“I think it’s brilliant,” Harry said truthfully. He and Ron went over to the desk where Mr Weasley was motioning to them to join him.

“Now this was a find, you two. I found it at a jumble sale over in Newton Abbott. It is a 1945 sewing machine. Well, the motor of one. The other part is over there." Arthur nodded towards some bits and bobs that were lying on the table next to them. Harry couldn’t really tell which piece was what. It looked a mystery.

“What are you going to do with it?” Ron asked his father, picking up the small motor.

“Oh! I don’t know yet, and that’s the joy of it, Ron. What do you think, Harry?”

“Er, it’s ace, Mr Weasley. Did you take apart everything that’s in here?”

"And find different uses for it, yes. Molly, bless her, tolerated it as much as she could in the early years, but now I'm afraid I've been regulated to this shed. Ah, well, come, lads, let's see if Molly has put out some finger food for us yet. We’ll get you an ale, too, Harry. Fred and George brought over some of their home-brew.”

They followed Mr Weasley out of the shed, and Harry heard a muffled "Oh!" and turned to see a flash of red hair disappear around the corner of the house. He frowned and stopped, wondering what was going on.

“I suspect that was Ginny you saw disappearing, Harry. Don’t pay her any attention,” Mr Weasley said, matter-of-fact.

Harry was puzzled as to why Ron's sister would be nervous about meeting him and followed the other two men into the house. 

o-o-o-o-o

Harry had to admit that Ron had not been lying about his mum's cooking. He honestly didn't know when he had last eaten such a delicious meal. And it was total chaos at the table, of course, but Harry enjoyed it immensely. All of the Weasleys talked to and above each other so that it was a small cacophony of sound that nevertheless made him feel happy and accepted. He and Hermione shared amused glances throughout most of the meal. Still, everyone else was acting as though nothing was unusual about their way of communicating. Everyone that is, except one.

Glancing at her now, Harry had been trying to figure out the youngest Weasley ever since they’d sat down. Ginny Weasley had chosen the farthest seat from him and was not joining in with her family's loud, boisterous camaraderie. Ron had whispered to him in dismay, saying it was 'bloody strange she's so silent over there. Usually, she hardly shuts up', which only caused Harry to glance at her more.

She was actually fairly pretty, Harry decided. Freckled like Ron, and her hair was a brighter red, but only just. She had it pulled back into a ponytail, with long wisps of it along her face. He remembered the picture at Ron's house of Ginny as a twelve-year-old and realized she’d definitely grown up. _Well, obviously, you dolt_ , his inner voice chastised him. But for as pretty as she was, she was so lacking in personality, that Harry was, in the end, confused as to how this timid, shy thing of a girl could be known for having such a lousy temper. By the end of the meal, Harry had actually forgotten about her. He wouldn’t have even noticed she’d left the table if he hadn’t heard Percy asking Mrs Weasley ‘what had caused Ginny to be so deathly quiet’.

After the meal, Fred and George pleaded with Harry to kick the football around for a while, but Harry begged off, not quite feeling up to it. Ron and the twins convinced their father to join them, and Harry sat with Hermione and Mrs Weasley, laughing at the twin’s antics. Percy served as a referee, naturally.

“Oh, Ginny should be out there, not Arthur,” Mrs Weasley was telling Hermione. Noticing Harry’s look, Mrs Weasley smiled at him. “My daughter is a better player than all of her brothers put together. I don’t know what has got into her today. Usually, she'd be the first one out there, _and_ she’d have convinced you to join in as well, mark my words.”

“It’s not trouble with Dean still, is it?” He heard Hermione ask. He saw Mrs Weasley shake her head.

“No, she’s over him. I think there's someone new, but she hasn't mentioned any names.”

Hermione nodded her head. “I think there’s someone, too. I was actually hoping she would have invited him over today.”

“Oh, well, she’ll tell us when she’s ready, I reckon. There’s no hurrying Ginny when she wants to go slow,” Mrs Weasley said wistfully. Her eyes fell on Harry, who realized he’d move closer to listen to them. He sat back, feeling guilty. “Oh, Harry dear, do you mind fetching us some lemonade? I left it on the table in the kitchen.”

Harry smiled and nodded, knowing that had been her way of telling him to leave and to let them talk woman to woman. He watched the men passing the ball as he walked back towards the house. As he entered through the doorway, Harry paused for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the light. He stopped short as he realized Ginny Weasley was standing by the kitchen window, looking out at her brothers playing football. He cleared his throat, and she turned her head, meeting his eyes briefly. Harry got a funny feeling in his stomach for a moment, but then it was gone as Ginny turned around, her back to him. 

“Er, your Mum sent me in to fetch some lemonade,” Harry said, feeling as though he sounded like an idiot.

“It’s on the table,” Ginny muttered, still not looking at him.

“Okay…” Harry said, confused by her attitude. He walked by her into the kitchen and found the tray. He stopped and looked back at her. “Er, did I do something to offend you or something?”

Ginny violently shook her head, still not looking at him. Harry sighed and counted the glasses on the tray, realizing they were one short. He looked around for an extra glass but didn't see any. Harry went over to the cupboard and opened a few doors to find one. He was about to turn around and ask Ginny for some help when he sensed her behind him. He scooted out of the way as she leaned next to him, opening the next cupboard and pulling out another glass. She gave him a small smile, her eyes (Harry was surprised to see they were brown, not blue, like Ron’s) not quite meeting his, and then she was gone. Harry stood there, dumbfounded. There was something downright puzzling about that girl!

The rest of the evening went by uneventfully, and soon they were heading back to the village in Ron’s car. Harry had a plate of food and a large container treacle tart in his lap for his godfather and uncle. Harry stared out the window of the vehicle, not really seeing anything. The strange behavior of Ron’s sister was still bothering him. Why was she acting as though Harry had the plague? Everyone claimed she was a force to be reckoned with, but around Harry, she was as quiet as a church mouse. It was unsettling the more he thought about it.

He arrived home to a happy Sirius and Remus, who both loved a good treacle tart, almost as much as Harry did. He ran upstairs to check his computer. Tonight he was going to ask for Red’s phone number, he had decided. Harry wanted to move their connection to the next level, and there was no better time to do it. All thoughts of the confounding Ginny Weasley left his mind.

Except that when he checked his mailbox, it was empty. Harry stared at the screen for a moment, not entirely understanding what he was seeing. Had he not sent his reply? He checked his outgoing mail and saw that the letter was there as 'sent.' She quite simply hadn’t written him back.

Harry frowned. This wasn’t like her. They always wrote each other back within a few hours. Never longer than eight hours, if it was late in the night. So why hadn’t she responded? Harry reread the letter he’d sent and couldn’t see anything offensive in it and frowned again.

Maybe she was busy, or something had come up, Harry thought to himself. After all, hadn't he had plans today, too? Wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt, Harry closed out of the main window and turned off his computer.

“She’ll write in the morning,” Harry said out loud to his empty bedroom. He chose to ignore the blatant false confidence he heard in his own voice and decided to get ready for bed.

o-o-o-o-o

_Red-_

_Are you okay? It's been a couple of days, and while I know we never actually said we'd write every day, I have to say I've sort of grown used to your words brightening my mornings (and afternoons and evenings). If I said something to offend you, then I am sorry._

_-Harry, who is hoping that all is well and drinking far too much coffee and wishing you would get after him about it_

_Dear Harry –_

_I'm sorry it has been a few days. I could explain myself, but honestly, I just needed some time to get my head straight. I am sorry if you felt frustrated or neglected. That is one of the problems with this sort of communication – it’s instant but only after we hit send. Please know that I wrote you half-a-dozen letters in the last few days, but I just couldn't seem to send any of them. (There I am, being contrary again)_

_Have you ever had an out-of-body experience (And no, not the kind that comes from imbibing too much coffee)? In particular, have you ever had an experience where you know you are yourself, you’re fairly sure you’re awake and in charge of your own faculties, and yet you still act as though aliens have taken over your brain and made you act like a daft cow?_

_No, you probably haven’t. Perhaps it is something only women go through. We want to act one way, but end up acting another, to our own confusion. Please know that my silence had everything to do with me and not you. If I could go back in time and change it, I would. But I can’t, so here we are._

_We have talked about so much in this little box, and yet I feel as though we've missed a few of the big ones. But just know that I am here. Always. If you need to talk or laugh or fret about anything, I will listen. And I promise not to go silent again. Because, at the end of all of it, you have meant the world to me these last few weeks. And I hope I have meant something to you._

_Sincerely & Hoping You’ll Respond –_

_Red_

_Ps. Put that coffee cup DOWN_

_PPS. I may have over-drank my share of Earl Grey this week, too._

Harry read the letter a few dozen times and then told himself to stop. He felt relief that she was okay and yet also angry that she’d known what she’d been doing to him by not responding. Taking a deep breath, he started to type.

_Red –_

_I am sorry you felt as though you had to step away from this…whatever this is…to get your equilibrium back. I went through half-a-dozen scenarios myself – did I say something wrong? Did I misunderstand something? Do I type as though I have bad breath? I finally came to the conclusion that perhaps a break was a good thing (For the record, though? It wasn't. Damn it, I missed you)._

_You're right, we talk about a lot of things in this box, and yeah, there are things we skip over. But all of this nothing we’ve been doing has meant something to me, too._

_I'm going to ask you a question, and I want your complete, honest answer. Do you see this, whatever this is, going somewhere? Are we just…talking to hear ourselves talk? Or I should say, are we just writing to see ourselves write? I admit this with caution and anxiety, but I like you, Red. I like you a great deal, and my heart is in a wee bit of danger here. So you know, no pressure, Redflash. No pressure at all._

_I propose this…if you do indeed see this eventually moving outside this box, then let’s exchange phone numbers and really…talk. We won’t give up this box, this way of communication, but I would like to expand our repertoire (there's that French again)._

_Please let me know, or better yet, you can call me tonight. I’ll be home after 6 or so._

_071 43 577 243_

_-Harry, who will, of course, be over-caffeinated_

_Harry –_

_I owe you this, I reckon. And you are right. I would very much like to see this eventually go somewhere. I shall call after tea, and after I have had a stiff drink to settle my nerves (Yes, girls have nerves about talking to blokes too)._

_Red, who does indeed like you very much as well_

o-o-o-o-o-o


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The phone call. Banter and sexy times ensue. ;) Red and Harry’s relationship develops.

Chapter 4:

For the entire day, Harry was nervous. He tried to hide it, but it was no use; Sirius eventually yelled at him to leave the kennel and go. Even the dogs were picking up on his anxiety. He came home and opened up his email, smiling. Red had left him a humorous short story of how she would sneak outside with her brother’s gear and practice football when she was only five years old. She admitted to being a bit of a tomboy, and Harry liked that. It meant that she didn’t let things hold her back or get in the way if she really wanted something.

He shot off a short email of his own, telling her again he couldn’t wait to talk to her. He knew he wasn’t being as careful with his heart as Sirius had warned him to be – she could have no doubt how much Harry was interested in her – but he didn’t care. It made him happy. And Harry could admit it was nice to have butterflies in his stomach about a girl. It’d been a long time. He had only ever felt small, tiny, fluttering nerves about Cho. Of course, Harry had never realized that at the time. But now, looking back and comparing the two experiences, …it was like apples to pears.

He played some music, tidied his bedroom, and tried to read, but his eyes kept glancing at the clock. It was four o'clock. Then it was four-thirty. Then finally, it was five. He heard Remus and Sirius downstairs and got up to visit with them, hoping it would make the time fly by quicker.

“Well, as I live and breathe, my godson, who is not walking around with his mobile in his hand acting fidgety. It’s a miracle, Remus,” Sirius said as Harry came into the kitchen.

Harry made a face at his godfather and didn't encourage him. The smell of food hit his nose, and he looked at the colorful bags his uncle was putting on the table.

"Oh, did you two stop by that new takeaway place again? Did you get more of that teriyaki chicken?” Harry went over to the bags and started eagerly looking through them.

“Yes, we did,” Remus said, as Sirius went to grab some plates. “And the chicken you like is in the bottom container.”

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed. They all made themselves busy, and soon the sounds of them happily eating filled the tiny area. Harry was just glad that the food was so good it had made Sirius stop teasing him.

“So, Harry,” Sirius began, almost on cue, and Harry groaned to himself. “Tonight’s the big night, eh? Some sort of phone call about to take place?”

Remus gave Harry a look of commiseration, but Harry could see his uncle was curious, too. He sighed and put down his fork.

“Yes, and you know it is. She’s going to call after six. We’ll just…chat for awhile. It’s nothing earth-shattering. Men and women talk on the phone every day.”

“True,” Sirius said, smirking at him. “Although at this rate, you and the mystery girl will physically meet again around Christmas time. Make sure you ask what sort of takeaway she likes. It’s a busy month, what with the holiday parties and such.”

Harry rolled his eyes at his godfather. “Hilarious.”

“Do you have some subjects written down in case the conversation falters?” Remus asked.

Harry stopped eating and felt his stomach drop. “Er, no. I mean…no. Should I? I just thought we’d er…talk for a bit. I thought the conversation would happen…you know, naturally.”

“I don’t know, Harry,” Sirius said, giving him a calculating look. “That’s leaving a lot to chance. And I know you can be charming when you want to be, but how are you ever going to convince her to actually meet you if you don’t prepare?”

Harry gulped, suddenly not feeling right about his upcoming phone date. “Er, should I do that? Do you think I need to?”

“Sirius, stop making him nervous,” Remus admonished his friend. He patted Harry on the arm. “Don’t mind him, Harry. If you two haven’t run out of things to say via email, then I am sure you’ll be fine on the phone.”

"Good point, Moony," Sirius said, raising his fork at them. "Just be your normal self, Harry. And who knows, maybe you'll get lucky tonight. I'll play the television extra loud later."

Harry frowned at his godfather, completely confused.

Sirius raised his eyebrow at him. “You know, in case you two…” His voice ran off suggestively. It took Harry a moment to understand his meaning.

“Sirius! That’s…we’re just talking. Like friends.”

“You two can be friends. Friends with phone benefits. Besides, she already snogged you the first time you met her. You two clearly have chemistry.”

Harry rested his head in his hands. “We are not going to have phone sex or anything! This is our first time talking, come on, Sirius.”

Sirius shrugged at him, and Harry stared at him as though he'd never seen the other man before. Remus was trying to hold in a laugh while looking down at his food. Finally, Sirius met Harry's gaze.

“Is it so wrong of me to want my godson to be getting some sort of excitement in his life? You’ve been living like a monk even before you and Cho broke it off. You and this bird are doing this whole thing backward, you now. I figured you could at least get in a bit of Mrs Palm and her five lovely daughters tonight.” Sirius raised his own hand and waved it at him, wagging his eyebrows.

Harry glanced up at the clock, realizing how late it had become. He growled at his godfather. "Brilliant, it's almost 6, and now you've got me thinking of wanking.”

Sirius gave him a full and toothy grin. “Just doing my bit, Harry.”

"Ugh," Harry said as he cleaned up after himself. He headed upstairs and unplugged his phone from its charger, getting ready. He ran his hand through his hair, suddenly thinking about what Sirius had said.

He honestly hadn’t even considered the idea until just now. Phone sex. Hah. Harry had, of course, done it before, with Cho. There was no way they could not have done it while he was away during the football season. Harry had actually enjoyed it. Sometimes it was easier to say things on the phone than face-to-face. And Cho had always seemed to respond better to it, to be honest. Maybe because she’d been busy thinking of someone else while he did all the talking. Harry frowned. Damn his godfather anyway, now all he could think about was Red’s voice and if it was sexy and what if it wasn’t sexy and what if he didn’t like the way she sounded and what if they really did have nothing to talk about-

Harry’s anxious thoughts were put on hold as his phone began to go off in his hand. It was five after the hour, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. Without even realizing it, he answered the phone using a deeper voice than usual. He cringed at himself.

“Hullo?”

“Harry! So how did the phone call go? You two hit it off?” Ron Weasley’s voice babbled at him.

“Ron! She hasn’t even called yet! She is supposed to be calling now.”

“Oh, sorry, mate, I thought you said it was earlier. Er, how you holding up?”

"Fine!" Harry exclaimed. "Listen, I'll tell you all about it later, and I'm sorry for sounding rude, but I really have to ring off now, okay?"

Harry heard Ron say something that sounded like, “Fine, goodbye, you grumpy sod,” and disconnected the call. _Honestly. What was wrong with people?_

A moment later, the phone rang again, and Harry swore as he tapped the answer button. “Listen, I told you, I’m sorry for sounding like a rude prat, but I need to keep this line open, okay?”

“Um, all right. I’m sorry to bother you. It’s just that I was expecting to talk to someone tonight. Er, Harry, is that you? It’s Red.”

Harry closed his eyes, a million curse words flying through his head. "Oh my god, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I answered the phone that way. It's just that people have been giving me a bit of a hard time about this phone call, and oh, hello. Hi. It's me. Harry. Hey.”

_Smooth_ , Harry thought. _Real smooth_.

The woman on the other side of the line laughed - a soft musical sound that nevertheless had Harry's stomach doing loop de loops, and his heart felt like it was doing the conga.

“Hi,” she said, sounding amused. “It’s nice to finally put a voice with…all the words. Even though we spoke in the club. This feels…closer.”

Harry smiled as he sat back against the pillows on his bed. “Yeah, it is. You sound lovely.”

She laughed again, and Harry’s heart speeded up its conga rhythm. “Do I? I’ve only said maybe twenty words at the most. How can you tell?”

“A bloke can just tell,” Harry said, causing her to laugh even more. _Oh, yeah_ , Harry thought. _I really needed to hear that laugh of hers._

"How was your day?" she asked him.

"It was good. I tried working with my godfather with his dogs, but for some reason I was too anxious to be much help."

“Oh? Why was that?”

"I think you know why," Harry said, laughing. He adored the teasing quality of her voice. It did something to his insides.

“Just couldn’t concentrate?”

“No, I had something on my mind.”

“Something about work?”

“No, something much more pleasurable.”

“Ah. A certain phone date you’d made with some random woman from the internet?” Her soft laughter tinkled over the line and went right through Harry. It made him feel warm and gooey inside.

“Perhaps,” Harry said. “Actually, you’re just my first call of the night, I have three other girls lined up after this.”

She laughed, a full-blown sound that pleased Harry down to his toes. “You seem like you have quite the stamina, then.”

Harry sucked in a breath. It felt so natural to be talking to her like this. "Oh, I have the stamina, trust me." Harry couldn't believe how forward he was being. He'd either have to thank Sirius later or throttle him.

“Yes, I know,” Red said, sighing. “I’ve seen your games. I’m aware of exactly how long you can go. And how single-minded you can be.”

There was a heated and pregnant pause then, and Harry felt his skin warming and his body starting to respond. He swallowed roughly and was about to reply when she beat him to it.

“Oh, listen to me. I honestly don’t mean to come across so…brazen. It’s just…you were right, we needed to talk like this. I like your voice, Harry.”

“I like yours. It’s pretty brilliant, actually.”

“So, tell me what you did instead of helping your godfather at work. What did you do to while away the hours today?”

Harry went into his day, a bit relieved they had pulled back from that edge of theirs. She told him what she had done as well - cleaning her flat from top to bottom to expend some energy.

“Do you work?” Harry asked, realizing he couldn’t recall her ever mentioning a job.

Red sighed. “I did. I was made redundant. But I am considering going back and taking a few courses over at Exeter. Sort of figure out what else I would like to try. Usually, while working, that’s all I do, twenty-four hours a day, practically. It’s been an interesting few weeks being left to my own devices, now, I have to admit. I need work soon, though, or I may have to move in with my brother and his wife.”

She made a sound as though that unnerved her, and Harry smiled. “Let me guess, you don’t get on with his wife?”

“Oh, no, I do. She's brilliant, he's brilliant…it's just…they're trying to have a baby, and I don't really want to…"

“Be around them while they’re trying, I get it,” Harry said.

“Well, actually, I was going to say I don’t really want to walk-in on them shagging or even just hear them shag. It’ll just be another reminder of my own sad, sex life.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I think things might be looking up for you sooner than you think,” Harry said, smiling.

The was another pause, and Harry swore the next time she spoke, her voice had dropped an octave. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. But definitely in a good way.

“Oh? Do you think? And how about for you? Are things…looking up?” Red said, her voice soft. Harry swallowed roughly.

“Well, they could be, if you keep talking like that.”

Red laughed, breaking the tension that had crept into the conversation again. “But what about those other three girls you’re calling later? Won’t they be upset?”

Harry chuckled. “I think we both know there are no other girls. I’m all yours.”

“Hmm, you’re turning my head,” Red said. He could hear movement as though she was changing position.

“Where are you?” He asked.

“In my flat.”

“No, I meant, where in your flat? Any place interesting?”

She chuckled. “I just moved to the bedroom, if you must know. The settee in the living room was hurting my back. The bed is easier to stretch out on.”

“Not to sound like a total prat, but what are you wearing?”

“Why? Trying to get an image in your mind?”

Harry laughed. “Maybe. I’m in my bed too, by the way. If that helps you out any.”

“Oh, it does. I was hoping you weren’t pacing back and forth in front of the shops.”

Harry chuckled. “You still haven’t answered my question, Red.”

She sighed happily. "I like it when you call me that. Do it again."

“Okay, but only if you answer the question… _Red_.” Harry tried to make his voice sound as sensual as possible and was rewarded by the sound of her exhaling loudly in his ear.

“Oh, you’re good,” Red said, sounding breathless. “All right, since you asked so nicely. I have on a pair of old football shorts that belonged to my brother, once upon a time, and an old jersey, from your previous team, I might add. It may or may not have your name and team number on it, too.”

Harry felt his heart beginning to beat faster again. “Is your hair up or down? Or are you wearing that horrible turban again?”

Red laughed. “Hey, what do you have against my headwrap? You didn’t like it in the nightclub that night either. But no, it’s down. And freshly washed too.”

Harry closed his eyes, trying to picture her. “So.. _Red_ , is your hair dark, like an auburn shade, or is it more of a light, fiery red?”

“Lighter. Definitely not auburn. I reckon you could call it fiery.”

Harry groaned. “You are saying all the right things, you know.”

Red giggled. “And you? What are you wearing?”

Harry opened his eyes and looked down at himself. “Well, I really didn’t dress for the occasion. Just some jeans and a jumper. Should I get more comfortable?”

“That depends, do you want to get more comfortable?”

Harry did and said so. He put the phone down and pulled off his jumper, tossing it aside. Harry kicked off his shoes and then looked at his jeans. He might as well go all in. He removed them quickly and left his boxers on. He settled back into the bed and picked up his phone.

“Okay, much better.”

“Do I even need to ask? You just stripped down, didn’t you? Men. What kind of phone call do you think is going to be?” Red asked, her voice full of mischief.

“I think it’s a phone call that requires us both to be comfortable,” Harry teased. “No pressure. We're just chatting, two able-bodied people, in bed, with nothing but our apparently dirty minds to entertain us.”

Red bubbled with laughter. “Oh, that’s nice, Harry. I thought you said you were a bit bollocks with women. You really are quite clever, did you know that?”

Harry smiled. “I do now. And I’m glad you think so. And trust me, if we were face to face at a restaurant, I’d have put my elbow in the butter dish or something. I reckon I feel less inhibited talking this way. Also, you really have a way of putting me at ease.”

They chatted a bit more, and Harry turned on his side. He felt as though he could honestly listen to her talk forever. She was so witty and fantastic, really. He’d known it would be like this. Harry couldn’t believe he had ever doubted that their connection wouldn’t translate outside of their emails.

"So, do you like sour or sweet?"Harry asked as their topic turned towards food.

“Hmm, definitely sweet. You?”

“Yeah, me too. In fact, I love a good treacle tart, almost better than anything.”

Red laughed. “Duly noted. And my mum makes an amazing treacle tart. She may or may not have passed this talent onto me.”

Harry chuckled. “You already know the way to my heart then, Red.”

"Fantastic! I knew all those years toiling in the kitchen, learning how to make it would pay off!"

“So, what position did you play in football?” Harry asked as they continued moving from subject to subject. Harry realized it didn’t matter what they were talking about, he just liked to hear her. The inflection of her voice, her way of telling a story… he knew if he could see himself now, he’d see a great big, dopey grin on his face and absolutely wouldn’t care.

“Harry, how long have we’ve been talking?” Red asked, after a slight break in the conversation. He glanced at the clock on his desk.

“Wow, about two hours. I don’t feel like stopping yet, though.”

“No, me either,” she said, sounding like she was stretching. “I’m a bit hot in this jersey now, should I… remove it?”

Harry smiled, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“Not that you would know if I really had or not,” Red said, laughing.

“True, but my imagination is quite…healthy. It can take it. And it approves of you supplying me with this information.”

"All right, hang on." Harry heard a few muffled noises, and then she was back, chuckling.

“This may be the first call I have ever taken while topless.”

“I’m glad to be of service to you, Red. Let’s see what other firsts we can discover together.” Harry honestly didn’t know where his suave attitude was coming from. But he had never felt so at ease talking to a woman before.

“I have a question to ask,” Red said, sounding amused. “It’s really none of my business, but…was Cho Chang really your only girlfriend? Sorry, I know that’s a bit of a tabloid question for you. I don’t mean it that way. I’m just naturally curious.”  
  


Harry sighed. “I could lie, I reckon and impress you with stories of how many women I’ve romanced, but…yeah. Cho was it. We were together for a long time. I was faithful to her, and, as far as I know, she was to me, too. We had already broken up before she’d gone public with her new bloke. And you?”

“Oh, I’ve never been with any women.”

Harry laughed. “That is both disappointing and heartening at the same time. And you know what I meant.”

Red chuckled. “Well, all right. I’ve had boyfriends, here and there. But only two I’ve actually, you know, shagged. My latest boyfriend was a bit of an arse. But honestly, I don’t want to talk about him because it’ll put me in a tetchy sort of mood that I don't think either of us wants."

“Right, well, all I heard was that you had one boyfriend, many years ago, and all he ever did was hold your hand, and now you’re practically dying to be touched by someone with stamina and who’s clever and funny and wears glasses. I’m pretty sure that’s what you said.”

Red laughed, and it was such a sweet sound to Harry. He felt his skin warm again. There was a moment or two as they both listened to each other breathe.

“Harry?”

“Hmm, yes, Red?”

“Are we…well, that is…is this phone call going to end like I think it’s going to end?” Her voice sounded soft, and Harry could hear the underlying vulnerability in it.

“We do seem to keep coming back to it, but…we’re only going to do what you want to do. I blame my godfather, really. He put the idea in my head before I’d even thought of it. But talking to you and hearing your voice and the way you laugh, Red, it’s doing things to me. You sound sexy as hell. You _are_ sexy as hell to me, no matter what. I mean, we know each other, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I do feel that we sort of know each other without knowing each other. No one else would understand that, but you, I suppose. I feel like I can tell you anything, and I hardly ever feel that way with blokes. I am also experiencing a severe lack of shyness tonight a well.”

“I know what you mean,” Harry mused, thinking about it. It was nice to know she felt the same way as him. It was a thrilling yet strange sensation.

“Are you wearing your glasses?” Her voice had dropped lower again, and Harry suddenly felt flush.

“Yeah. I do all the time now. Something about how someone I know likes gits who wear glasses.”

Red protested. “You don’t look like a git in them. You look…sexy. And your hair…is it standing up?”

Harry chuckled. “Probably. It usually is. But I’m too comfortable to get up and check for you, Red.”

“And did you… you _did_ strip down earlier, didn’t you?”

“Hmm, sort of. I left my boxers on. Still got those shorts on?”

“Yes,” Red said, her voice sounding husky. “But I like them on, they’re a bit too small for me, if you catch my meaning. I like the way they…bunch up between my legs.”

Harry sucked in a deep breath and then released it. The silence from the other line seemed to grow in intensity. “Are you… are you sure you’re okay with this? We could go back to talking about food again. Or football. Or…anything, really.”

Red sighed, and he heard her moving. "Yeah. I didn't think I would be, but…will you at least pretend to still respect me in the morning?”

Harry laughed, unable to stop himself. “Are you kidding? I’ll respect you more. Did you change positions? I thought I heard movement.”

"I'm laying on my stomach," Red said, casually. Harry smiled at the phone.

“Oh? Is that your preferred position?”

“No, not especially, but it does make it easier to hold the phone one-handed,” she said, laughing.

“So…” Harry paused, letting his mind wander down intimate avenues. He really shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. “How do you usually…release some tension?”

“Why? Doing a survey?” Red asked, her voice sounding husky again.

“I’m just trying to paint more pictures, Red. I want to know how you go about it. I mean, I know what I do, but you’re a whole new thing to consider.”

Red laughed. "Well, usually, I employ a toy to help me out if you must know."

Harry felt excitement at her words. “Oh? Really? Do tell. Please.”

“I only have the one, and it’s shaped like… I can’t believe I am telling you this, honestly. What has got into me?”

“Go on,” Harry said, trying not to sound like he was begging, but encouraging. “I like the idea of you…well, really, the idea of _any_ woman doing that is sexy, but especially when it’s you. What it’s shaped like?”

“When you get a chance, internet search something called the Rabbit. Then you’ll see. Let’s just say it’s very good at hitting all my favorite areas.”

“Do you have it out now?”

“No, would you like me to get it?”

“Do I really need to answer that? Should I take a picture of how what you just told me made a part of me perk up and take notice?”

Red laughed. He listened to her moving around, the sound of the drawer opening. A moment later, a soft buzzing sound was heard, and he grinned.

“That sounds bloody fantastic,” Harry said. “I definitely approve.”

Red laughed. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this.”

“We still don’t have to, Red. But I may have to cut the phone call short and take care of something. It’s finally grown to the point of no return.”

She laughed. “Oh, Harry, you know how to turn a girl’s head. Have you…have you touched yourself yet?”

“No, I’ve been waiting. But it’s getting harder. Excuse the pun,” Harry said, feeling giddy.

“Should I unzip these shorts and see how the weather is down there? Although honestly, I can already tell. I’ve been rocking back and forth on the bed over that little bunch of material, just listening to your voice. And your laugh. Your laugh is dead sexy, Harry. You’re dead sexy, Harry.”

Harry groaned, imagining her on her bed, moving over the tight little bundle of her shorts. “You’re absolutely killing me.”

“Don’t die yet, Harry,” she said softly, her voice sounding breathy and full of hunger. “I’ve never, well, that is, I’ve never done this on the phone before. Do we just…”

“Let me tell you what to do," Harry said, closing his eyes. "Take off your shorts, Red." He heard her move, and then a moment later, her voice sounded utterly lust-filled to Harry’s ears. It did things to his insides to listen to her like this.

"Should I leave the knickers on? They're pink, by the way just so you can get a clear picture in your mind. I know how much you like that.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re already brilliant at this, Red. Does that toy of yours fit in underneath them?”

“Yeah,” She said, sounding worked up. He heard the sound of buzzing again.

“Before you slip it in there, use your finger, tell me how wet you are.” Harry bit his lip, feeling as though his heart was beating too fast, but he didn’t want this to stop.

“Ohh,” she made a soft, little whimpering noise. “I’m so…goodness, Harry. So wet. Just your voice has done this to me. I think I am definitely in trouble with you.”

“Music to my ears,” Harry said, his imagination growing wings and starting to fly. “Now slip the toy under your knickers and just touch your clit.”

She sucked in a breath at his words, and then released a low 'hmmm' noise in his ear. “I like how commanding you suddenly are, Harry.”

“Do you?” Harry asked, intrigued. “Do you normally like a bloke to take charge?”

Red laughed, a deep and throaty sound again, and Harry felt his pulse start to race. “Sometimes. But sometimes I like to tell him what to do, too.”

“That’s brilliant," Harry exhaled, feeling unbelievably hot. “How’s it going over there? Are we still being a good girl?”

“Of course," she said softly. "I follow directions quite well, you'll find. Should I keep…" her voice trailed off, but he heard the quiver in her voice.

“Yeah, keep at it. Just rub yourself back and forth. Or maybe move your toy in little circles,” Harry said as his own hand finally slipped beneath the rim of his boxers. “Do you like to make a lot of noise when you do it, Red?”

She gasped, and then laughed softly. "Not when I'm by myself, usually. Would you like me to change that?"

“Oh, God, yes,” Harry said, taking himself in hand. “Let me hear you just lose control.”

They listened to each other breathe for a moment, and Harry heard her whimper again. “Now put it inside you, Red.”

“I can do both,” she said, sounding breathless. “It goes inside and keeps stimulating me. It really is a girl’s best friend.”

Harry swore, just thinking about it. “Oh, you are a naughty thing, aren’t you? Put the phone down by your body, let me hear it.”

He heard her sigh and then silence for a moment. Then he heard the louder sound of the vibrator. Harry gripped himself tighter, responding to the noises he was hearing. He could just make out the sound of what had to be the wetness of her body, and it sounded fan-fucking-tastic to his ears.

After a moment, her voice was back in his ear. "Hear enough? Did you hear how wet you've made me? And what are you doing over there? Describe it to me, Harry.”

“I’m gripping myself, I’m already so…full and thick with need. I haven’t wanked in ages, Red, I don’t think I will last long. Just listening to you and God, I’m so hard, just imagining your face, your body, your legs…widen your legs for me. Touch your breasts…how does that feel?”

“Oh, God, Harry,” Red’s voice almost sounded distraught, but he knew that she wasn’t. She moaned, low and full of need in his ear, and his hand sped up. “Oh, my breasts, my body is so warm, I feel like I’m going to just erupt into fire over here. Let me hear you; let me hear the sound of your body meeting your hand.”

Harry groaned and then lowered the phone towards his cock. He tried to make it extra loud for her, switching up his hand speed, the sound of flesh meeting flesh sounding through the room. He was close, so close, and he wanted to hear her come before he did.

“Oh, goodness, that was so…I did that to you?” she asked, sounding desperate.

“Yeah, almost from the start of this bloody conversation,” Harry admitted. He groaned again and was rewarded by a dirty word being uttered in his ear. He grinned.

“Oh, that sounded hot, hearing you say that, Red. Come on, repeat it for me.”

She did, and Harry knew he was seconds away, and he tried to concentrate on something else, but it went out of his head the moment he heard her gasp and loudly moan his name. She panted in his ear and swore again, and Harry let himself go, exploding into his own hand quite joyfully.

Neither of them said anything, the sound of their breathing filling up the spaces between them. Harry closed his eyes, his chest moving up and down as he took in air. He wasn’t sure, but that could have possibly been the single most amazing wank of his life.

“Harry?” Red’s voice was soft and now sounded sleepy.

“Yeah?”

“That was…that was…fantastic. I haven’t come that hard by myself in a long time. Thank you.”

“No, really, thank you. I was just thinking that was the best wank of my young life. I’m glad I got to share it with you.”

Red giggled softly and made a soft mewling noise. “Do you…do you think it’ll be like that when we…well if we do ever meet again. It’s a little scary for me to think on, actually.”

“I know,” Harry said thoughtfully. If they were this good on the phone, then how sexy would it be when they actually met?

“I don’t want to…ruin this moment by talking about it now,” Red said, something in her voice he couldn’t recognize. “But just know I am very happy right now. Very happy and very un-stressed. I'll write to you tomorrow?"

“Yeah, of course,” Harry said.

“Goodnight, Harry Potter,” Red said, her voice taking on a lilting quality that made him smile.

“Goodnight, Red. Do you think you could actually tell me your name soon?”

Red chuckled. “Soon, Harry. I promise.”

They rang off, and Harry put the phone down on the floor next to his bed. He knew he should get up and clean himself off, but he felt too relaxed and too happy to be bothered. His blood pressure and heartbeat were finally returning to normal, and he couldn't help the huge grin that filled his face. He heard the television from downstairs and laughed. There'd be no living with Sirius now.

o-o-o-o-o

_Harry –_

_Good morning_ _I woke up feeling amazing this morning, I hope you did, too. That was…a new experience for me. I’m trying not to be a nervous Nettie and worry about whether I said the right things or not. But while our conversation may have taken a few sexy turns, can I also say that just talking with you, in general, was amazing? Even about the run of the mill, non-sexy stuff. ;-)_

_I feel like you get me without me having to explain myself. That’s a rare thing, I think. I am so glad I slipped my email address into your pocket that night. I’m also thankful you weren’t really going out with Romilda Vane._

_I have some family coming in for a visit, and I might not be around as much, but I do want us to talk again. I think I dreamed about your voice last night as I slept…I woke up very randy, indeed. I may have to get a new rabbit (have you searched that yet?!) because this one will be worn out before long!_

_I will call again at the end of the week, the next time I’m assured of some private time. Just in case we get carried away again. ;-) (Although I can’t see why two upstanding, perfect angels like us would get carried away, can you?) Until then, let’s keep writing letters. They are becoming the best part of my days._

_-Red, who may or may not have gone out early and bought a new coffee maker today…_

_Red-_

_You were bloody fantastic last night. So fantastic, that even after what we did on the phone, I had to do it again later, just thinking of you (Hey, I’m a bloke. Apparently a sex-crazed, indecent sort of one). I even had to have another go when I woke up this morning. It’s like you’ve made me 17 again. ;)_

_Your voice, your sighs…the way you said my name as you…it was brilliant. And yes, I did a browser search for ‘the rabbit’ what do you think inspired me this morning?!_

_But in all seriousness, I know what you mean. I, too, feel as though you just “get me." We don't even have to do anything sexy on the phone again, I would be happy just listening to you talk about your day. I think I like all of you, not just the sexy you. Although I will say that part is ace too. ;)_

_-Harry, who won’t let the idea of you getting a coffee maker go to his head…_

o-o-o-o-o

"Morning, sleepyhead," Sirius said as Harry entered the kitchen. Harry smiled and made a beeline for the coffee machine. He paused and then looked at his godfather.

“Do we have any Earl Grey?”

Sirius blinked at him. “As in the tea?”

Harry nodded.

“Um, I think there might be an old box around here somewhere. Why? You’ve never been much of a tea drinker, Harry.”

Harry shrugged. “Just thought I might try to cut back on my coffee intake.”

Sirius snorted and then appeared to really look at him. “Harry!”

“What?”

“You had sex last night!”

Harry groaned and put his hand up over his face. He peered at Sirius between his fingers. "I didn't leave the house last night, and you know it. Can we just drop this conversation?”

"No, but you and that bird talked for a long time, and heh, you did it, didn't you? The phone? Ooh. Okay, spill it. How did it happen, who mentioned it first, who got starkers first, I bet it was you, wasn't it?"

"Sirius!" Harry bellowed, more loudly than he meant, and his godfather closed his mouth with an audible pop! of noise.

Harry sighed as he poured himself some coffee and sat down at the table, nodding at Sirius to join him. After taking a long sip, he felt better and fixed his godfather with a look.

“I don’t want you taking the piss out of me because of this, okay?”

“I’m sorry, Harry…you know I didn’t mean it that way. I reckon I was just…excited for you.”

"We had a very nice conversation, actually," Harry said, wrapping his hands around his cup. "It was brilliant, Sirius. She's so funny, and she thinks I'm funny and she's got this amazing laugh. And we talked for hours about everything and nothing, and yeah, we got…turned on by each other.” Harry took another drink of his coffee to hide his face. When he looked back across the table, his godfather had a massive grin on his face.

“She was that good, eh?”

“Sirius…” Harry warned. His godfather held up his hands.

“Sorry, you’re just so…cute like this. You reminded me so much of James right then. So, when are you two going to meet in person?”

Harry frowned. “Well, we didn’t really discuss it. We just sort of…you know, finished and said goodnight.”

“But you do want to meet her, yeah? Again I mean, and preferably in daylight? She could be quite different looking in sunlight, you know.”

“Of course, I want to meet her! And it wouldn't matter if she looked like a troll, I'd still like her. She gets me, Sirius. Like you or Remus get me. I've never known it could be like this with someone of the female sex. With soft laughs and giggling.” Harry shut his mouth, suddenly embarrassed.

Sirius gave a low whistle. "She's made Cho a long-forgotten memory in just one phone call. Now, this is a girl I have to meet."

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes.”

Sirius laughed and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “As long as you know what you’re getting into, Harry. Are you driving over to the new Dawlish Center today? When do they break ground on it?”

“Yeah, Ian wants me to make sure the new site is where I want it. And if I’m happy, then in a few weeks. We’re doing something different this time, focusing more on what some of the girls would be interested in. Ian sent me some reports indicating that Dawlish has an unusual high number of female runaways and pregnancies. This Sports Center is going to have more of a health focus geared towards young girls. Maybe try to stem the tide a bit.”

“That’s great, Harry. Your mum would be proud of you. I think I’ll cook tonight. Are you going to be around, or do you have a hot phone date again? Should I just set a tray of food outside your door and put earplugs in?”

“I’ll eat with you,” Harry said. “Although I don’t know why. Since you’re being so nice to me about everything.”

Sirius laughed and ruffled Harry’s hair as he always did. “Just keeping you on your toes, kid. Just keeping you on your toes.”

o-o-o-o-o

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks again to Narukoibito for her beta.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Red delve into their deeper feelings, while Harry and Ginny have a bit of an accident...

Harry met Ron for lunch a couple of days later. His friend appeared frazzled, so Harry waited until half of Ron's pint had been consumed and asked him what was wrong.

"Oh, just family stuff. Bill and Fleur came home like I mentioned. They're staying with Hermione and me, while they’ve decided to let their daughter, Victoria, stay with Mum and Dad. Just as an excuse to shag properly if you ask me. And my other brother Charlie, the one who was studying the lizards, he's back from the Galapagos, and he's staying with Ginny because he needs to be in town for meetings. But he doesn’t drive, and Ginny doesn't have a car, and it's been a bit of a pain. I’ve been stuck driving everyone around. And Hermione's taking a course, and I hardly see her and just…bloody hell.”

Harry smiled, trying to be comforting. "Sounds rough. Red said she had family in too, must be that time of year for everyone to come home and visit.”

“You still don’t know her name?” Ron asked as their food arrived – Cornish Pastie for Ron, a nice Shepard’s Pie for Harry.

"She says soon," Harry said, shrugging as he dug into his food.

“What is she playing at, do you wonder?”

Harry paused and glanced at his friend. "Er, I don't think she's playing at anything. She's just careful. I can understand that. I'd think you as a man with a sister would understand it too."

Ron chewed his food thoughtfully. “I reckon. I mean, okay, she’d kill me if I told you this, but Ginny had a bit of an issue a few years back. Some bloke became obsessed with her – found out where she lived, left creepy messages for her everywhere. I think it sort of…look, I know you didn’t get the best impression of Ginny. She was not acting like herself at all that time at my parents’. In fact, the way she was acting reminded me of how it was when that Riddle bloke was harassing her, come to think of it.”

“What exactly happened?”

“She got a restraining order put out against him, and he kept breaking it. They finally busted him when he tried to get into her flat one night. She eventually moved out of that one and found a new one here. I reckon that’s why Hermione and I were attracted to the area; I wanted to stay near Ginny, in case she needed me.”

“That’s…awful. How long ago was this?

“Oh, about five years now, I think. She’s mostly rebounded from the experience or seemed to. I suppose Dean Thomas cheating on her really didn’t help things. She’s usually full of life, but I guess she’s wary of new people. She has periods where she gets quiet and withdrawn. I wish you could have met when she was more like herself — I think you two would have hit it off. But now you have Mystery Woman, don’t you?”

Harry smiled. “Yeah, I’m smitten, what can I say? She’s bloody brilliant, Ron. I’m already ‘round the twist over her, I have to admit. We spent three hours on the phone, and I still feel as though we could just keep talking and talking about things.”

Ron grinned. “So, when are you two going to actually meet with full lights on and everything?”

Harry frowned. “I don’t know. I want to and soon, but I don’t want to pressure her. She sounds as though she’s had some things happen in the past too.” There was something that was bothering Harry, something he felt he was missing. He didn’t realize he’d been staring off into space until Ron loudly cleared his throat.

Harry gave his friend a smile. “Sorry. I do that sometimes. Especially when I think of her.”

Ron gave him a frank look. “Harry. Please, don’t get angry at me, but…do you think part of your attraction for this girl is because you don’t know her?" Ron paused as though carefully choosing his next words. “Like, she can be anything you want her to be at this point. She’s practically perfect in this grey area you two have created. It’s great that you feel as though you connect with her, but…I worry you’re getting your hopes up and putting her up on a pedestal.”

“I don’t think I’m doing that,” Harry scowled, pushing his plate away.

Ron sighed. “Maybe you’re not. Okay. But maybe she is? You said she told you she knows who you are and watched your games. Maybe she’s one of those groupie types you hate so much. Maybe she’s just better at hiding it.”

“She’s not. I can tell. She hasn’t once said anything remotely…" Harry paused, remembering something Red had said from the telephone conversation. _It's an old jersey from your previous team, I might add. It may or may not have your name and team number on it, too._

Ron quirked an eyebrow at Harry as he scowled again at his mate. “Look, I can just tell she’s not. She has a real passion for the game, and she understands why I enjoyed it so much. That’s all.” Harry felt as though he were protesting too much, but it was true. He honestly didn’t think Red was only interested in him because he’d been famous.

Ron sighed. “All right, all right. Don’t get shirty with me about it. I just wanted to throw that out there.”

They finished their lunch, with Harry feeling grumpy for most of it. Ron apologized again as they were heading their separate ways.

“I am sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to cheese you off. I’m just looking out for you. I have what Ginny calls ‘over-protective’ syndrome. I just don’t want to see you get hurt or taken advantage of.”

Harry sighed. “Everyone in my life is worried about me being taken advantage of. It's like the lot of you don't think I'm capable of figuring things out myself! I do know the difference between someone being honestly interested in me versus the 'public me.'"

Ron scratched the back of his neck, his ears were slightly red. “Well, yeah, you could look at it that way, I reckon. Or you could decide we just really care about you. Take your pick.”

Harry shook his head. “You’re right. But, Ron, I need at least one person rooting for me here.”

“I am!”

“Well, okay, then.”

Harry and Ron both looked away and then back at each other. Harry felt embarrassed for becoming cross.

"Er, why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow and meet more of the family. Eventually, I want you to be able to say you’ve met them all. You know, so you’ll have the whole Weasley set,” Ron said after a moment, his cheeks turning pink.

Harry nodded. "All right. And, hey, I'm sorry I got shirty. You are looking out for me, and that's a good thing, you're right. I think it's just because I get it from Sirius, too. It makes me defensive.”

Ron looked relieved at his words and smiled. “Around six, okay? We have chairs now and everything.”

“Hah. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

They parted ways, and Harry sighed as he turned to go home, his thoughts and heart in a whirl.

o-o-o-o-o

_Red-_

_Do you ever want to throttle the people that care about you? You know that they are just trying to be helpful and are worried for you, but you also just want them to let you live your life?_

_I had a minor disagreement today with a friend (over you), and I know I should count myself lucky that I have someone who cares so much about me but at the same time…I know what I’m doing here. Or at least, I feel like I do. I don't have a large group of close people in my life. I guess that makes me insulated against most things, which is how I usually like it. I only consider four, maybe five people, to be my chosen family, to be honest. And I wish just one of them would appear to be happy for me._

_Perhaps they just don’t understand how we can claim to know each other so well, without having really met. And quite frankly, I am tired of trying to explain it. I don't really have any great thoughts or answers or anything, but I wanted to talk to you. Or talk at you. I have a feeling you'll understand without me having to fully explain it._

_-Harry_

_Harry-_

_I do understand! More than you know. You just described most of my young life, being the youngest in a family with older brothers is the most wonderful, yet most tedious thing in the world! They were (and still are) the most interfering bunch of idiots you will ever have the pleasure to meet. It’s as though they can’t recognize (or maybe it’s that they just can’t see) that I am grown woman and can handle myself. Most of my young life was spent having to hide things from my family so that I didn't get lectured at. They act like I am made of china sometimes. And it is nerve-wracking, to say the least. And very frustrating._

_I have not told anyone about our friendship yet. Not because I am embarrassed or worried about their clucking tongues over what I am sure they will think is just another way I’m screwing up my love life, but you know what? I want this..whatever this is between us, to be mine. Just for me. Does that sound selfish? I want all of you, Harry. To be mine. Not theirs. At least, for this little time of us just discovering each other. I don’t want to share you. You are a bright spot in my life at the moment, and I am fiercely protecting it._

_-Red_

o-o-o-o-o

"Hullo, Harry! It's nice to finally meet you, been a longtime fan," Charlie Weasley shook Harry's hand in a firm grip. Harry grinned at him in response. As with all the Weasleys, there was just something inherently likable about the other man. Charlie was tall and lanky like Ron, but with more freckles, if that were possible. He didn’t look like the scholarly type, in fact, he looked tan, as though he’d spent most of his time in the sun. Playing volleyball on a beach.

“Ron tells me you’re back from studying lizards?” Harry asked as they made their way to the dining table (this time, it did indeed, have chairs).

“Yeah, I’m a herpetologist. It’s fascinating stuff, really. But don’t worry, I won’t bore you,” Charlie said good-naturedly. Hermione came over to them, hugging Harry briefly.

“Harry, let me introduce you to Bill and Fleur.”

Harry followed her over to a couple that was standing just outside the kitchen door. Bill was tall and handsome, and…well, he just looked _cool_. He had long hair and an easy smile. He was holding a little girl about four or five years old, who had long, blonde hair and the bluest eyes Harry had ever seen. That is until he turned to greet Bill's wife, Fleur. She was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. As tall as Bill, but with curves, she apparently had legs that went on forever. Harry tried not to stare too hard. Especially since when she smiled at him, there was a touch of mischief in her eye.

“‘Allo, Harry Potter, zee famous football player. You killed us once in a match, but I have decided to forgive you.”

Bill laughed as he shifted his daughter in his arms to shake Harry’s hand. “Forgive my wife, Harry. She was a big Lyon fan. I believe you and your team slaughtered them a few years back. Quite right, too, I may add, no matter what my wife says.”

Fleur rolled her eyes at her husband, but it was full of affection. They talked for a short while until Hermione then maneuvered Harry back over to the table. Harry counted the chairs and frowned.

“I thought everyone was coming tonight?”

Hermione shook her head. "No, unfortunately. Percy has to work, and Ginny wasn't feeling well, although she said she might come by later. This actually helps as I am quite sure we don't have enough room for two more. Not that I want either of them to miss this bedlam. Oh, there goes the timer, I’ve got to check the hob. You’re sitting here, next to Ron and Charlie, Harry.”

As though summoned, Ron appeared at Harry’s side with a drink. “Cheers, mate.” Harry smiled appreciatively.

“Ta,” Harry said, taking a deep drink of whatever it was. He smiled a moment later. “Cider?”

“Cider,” Ron said, nodding. “I reckon everyone not related to me needs to be a bit pissed to eat with this lot.”

"Your parents aren't here either, are they?"

"Nah, they dropped off Victoria, and Dad mentioned something about taking Mum out for a bite to eat, alone. I think Mum is more into grandchildren then Dad. I’m not sure he’s been all that happy about watching Victoria all the time.”

Harry watched as Fred and George had taken over playing with Victoria. They were playing with what looked like a huge, yellow stuffed bird and trying to make her find it as they passed it back and forth behind their backs. The little girl giggled at them, as Fred made bird noises, and George swooped the stuffed animal through the air if she guessed correctly.

Hermione announced dinner was ready, and everyone found their seats, with Fleur holding her daughter on her lap so Bill could get their plates ready. Hermione had cooked an excellent dinner – there were bangers and mash and Cornish pasties, as well as a salad and a nice steak and kidney pie that Harry rather enjoyed.

“I see Hermione stayed traditional,” Harry noted to Ron. His friend chuckled.

“Only because I convinced her that poor Bill and Charlie were dying for some good old-fashioned English grub. She wanted to make trout and lemon capers with escargot. And some strange pizza thing that had no sauce on it but had lettuce and pesto.”

“So where’s Ginny tonight? She’s not feeling too bad, is she?” Bill was asking Charlie.

"She said she had a headache, but she wanted to see you guys, so she might pop in. It was weird, she was all set to come, and then after talking to Hermione, she changed her mind.”

“What did you do, Hermione? Threaten to make her wash all the dishes?” Bill said, laughing. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“No! Of course not. Actually, she said she didn’t feel well, but I did sort of get the feeling it wasn’t all that serious. She was all set to come until I mentioned…” Hermione’s voice ran off and a strange expression came over her face as she looked in Harry’s direction. “Well, never mind,” Hermione said, shaking herself. “I’m sure Ginny has her reasons.”

The talk turned to other things – Charlie told a humorous story of sharing bedroom space with a Galápagos sea lion that had refused to leave the beach hut he’d stayed in. Then Fleur told them about the markets and exotic food she and Bill had discovered while in Luxor. She told Hermione of a dish they had tried that Victoria had fallen in love with – Kushari. A mixture of noodles, rice, black lentils, fried onions, tomatoes, and bizarre-sounding spices, to Harry's ears. Bill then said Victoria had taken to waking them up early so that they could hurry down to the local eatery to get some for breakfast, lunch, _and_ dinner.

Fred and George both seemed enraptured by Victoria even more after this particular story and took her out back to play with after she’d finished eating. The rest of the adults smiled as they heard her peals of laughter at whatever the twins were doing.

“Those two are going to be her favorite uncles soon,” Fleur said, smiling. She raised her eyebrow at the rest of the Weasley brothers. “Zee rest of you will have to…how did Bill put it? Pick up your game?”

Ron, Percy, and Charlie all looked at each other and laughed. "Well, I can't have that," Charlie said, standing up. "Reckon I should go out there and entertain her too. She sees me least of all."

Harry started helping Hermione clean up as Ron began to tell everyone else about how he’d fixed up his study just the way he wanted it.

“Oh, Harry, you don’t have to help me - you’re a guest. Go out and relax with the others.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry said, ignoring her and carrying the dishes for her. Hermione gave him a grateful smile, and they entered the kitchen. She turned on the taps and nodded at him. "We'll put most of these in the dishwasher, I just want to soak the bigger items first."

Harry and Hermione chatted for a bit, and after they finished, she turned on the coffee maker and showed Harry the cake she had made for afters. They sat at the kitchen table, and Hermione rested her chin on her hand, giving him a strangely calculating look.

“So, how is your email relationship going? Ron mentioned you two have actually talked on the phone now?”

Harry smiled and felt secretly proud of himself that Hermione’s question hadn’t made him blush. Too much teasing from Sirius had clearly helped in this regard.

“Yeah, it was great. And we’re still writing each other, all the time.”

“Do you think you’d recognize her if you saw her, out on the street?”

Harry frowned. “Er, I think so. I mean…the nightclub was dark, but I do have this mental image in my head, yeah. Why?”

Hermione shook her head and looked out the window briefly. “No reason. It’s sort of curious, really. Do you think you would recognize her voice?”

Harry couldn’t help but blush then and looked away. “Oh yeah, definitely. But what’s curious?”

Hermione smiled as she got up to pull down a tray for the coffee. “Oh, you know. How what we think we see and know versus what’s really there. Like you said, you have this mental image of this woman in your head, but what if it doesn’t match up with reality?”

Harry frowned. “You mean, what if she’s not pretty enough or she looks different than I remember?”

"Well, yes, for a start," Hermione said.

“Hmm. Well, I think I’m a bit too far gone now, to be honest. She’s…she’s pretty great, personality-wise. We really get on, Hermione. I’m sure it won’t matter what she looks like in the long run."

Hermione smiled at him again. “That’s great, Harry. That’s the right attitude. That means you really do like her.”

“Well, yeah,” Harry said, feeling as though he’d said it enough for it to be self-evident. Hermione laughed at his expression.

“Come on, you carry the coffee tray, and I’ll be right behind you with the cake.”

Harry made sure he had a tight grip on the tray and headed out towards the back patio, where mostly everyone had gathered. It was a gorgeous night – the sun was just setting behind the back fence, and they had placed fairy lights around the garden, making everything glow. Harry set the coffee tray down as everyone came forward to get a cup. He grabbed one for himself and poured a little cream into it and stood by Ron.

“Was wondering where you got to,” his friend said. “See my wife put you to work. Better you than me, is that horrible of me to say? Hmm, it probably is.”

"I didn't mind," Harry said truthfully. "Sometimes, I don't really like big gatherings.”

Ron nodded in understanding and then looked towards the kitchen. "I thought Hermione was going to serve that chocolate cake of hers? I've wanted some since she made it, but she wouldn’t let me near it. And rightly so.”

Harry looked at the kitchen, too. “She said she was right behind me. I’ll go make sure she’s got everything in hand.”

Harry started back across the garden as Charlie went by with a thrilled Victoria on his shoulders. Her shrieks of joy made him smile. He was watching the pair go by as he walked and wasn’t looking where he was going, which of course, meant that what happened next was entirely his fault.

“Ouch!”

“Ow!

Harry had walked into someone, which caused him to tip forward slightly since his attention had been centered elsewhere. He tripped and then fell, his glasses flying off his face as his backside hit the ground. All Harry saw was a reddish blob standing in front of him.

“Hermione?” he asked, not sure who he’d run into exactly. Everyone else was accounted for. A floral scent his nose, and he was suddenly confused. Where had he smelled that before?

“Blimey, Ginny, you know how to make an entrance,” Ron’s voice was saying, and Harry looked up at a taller reddish blob.

“He ran into me!” said an angry female voice, and Harry suddenly needed to know where his glasses were.

“Er, did either of you see where my glasses went?”

The smaller, reddish blob on his right moved, and then he felt her hand on his as she fitted his glasses into his fingers. "Sorry," she said softly, and Harry felt an odd swooping feeling in his stomach. That voice… _her_ voice…

He slipped his glasses on and looked up at Ginny Weasley. A Ginny Weasley that looked absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was piled high on her head in an attractive way, with delicate, wispy tendrils framing her face. She was wearing a short skirt without stockings, her legs looking amazingly fit to Harry. “Um,” he stuttered, blinking dumbly at her. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out him. In more ways than one.

“Bloody hell, Gin, I think you gave him a concussion,” Fred said, coming over to them.

"Way to go, Sis. Always said you were a smooth operator. Now you're knocking out men without even trying?” George added, looking at his sister.

Harry watched as Ginny's eyes narrowed at her brother, a snarl on her face. "Shut it," she said harshly, and she glanced down at Harry, her skin turning the brightest pink he’d ever seen. “Sorry,” she said, looking away. “I’m a klutz, apparently.”

“No, you were right in one, I ran into you. I’m the one who’s sorry,” Harry said, trying to stand. Ron had to help him up as he swayed on his feet. Hermione came out of the kitchen with the cake then, frowning at them.

“Why was Harry on the ground? Ginny? What’s wrong?” Ginny just shook her head at Hermione and went past her back into the house. Harry felt utterly discombobulated. What had just happened? And why was Ginny Weasley reminding him of Red?

o-o-o-o-o

_Harry-_

_My brothers always taught me that anything is possible if you’ve got enough nerve, and that logic has served them well. Tonight I’m going to be bold and do something that requires all of my nerve. At least I am going to try. My courage could fail me at the last minute, but… we'll see. Wish me luck? ;-) You might find that humorous later. Or you might not, depending on how it goes. But that’s what makes it exciting, yeah?_

_-Red_

Harry yawned as he read her letter, confused. She hadn’t written since he’d received that letter, so he had no idea how whatever it was she'd been planning had gone. It was late at night, and he had finally come home after being at Ron and Hermione’s. After he had been knocked off his feet, he’d felt wobbly, and Hermione insisted that he stay until he felt better. Ginny Weasley had stayed away from him and visited with her older brothers and then left, not sparing him another glance. Harry didn’t know why the woman didn't seem to like him or perhaps was still angry at him for walking into her, but he'd been the one knocked on his arse. Harry wasn't carrying a grudge, so why should she?

He couldn’t believe he’d thought Ginny Weasley was Red for the briefest moment. He really was losing it. He decided to write a short note to her and then call it a night.

_Red-_

_Well, I am on tenterhooks over here, waiting to see how it all went for you, but I’ve had a long night and must call it a day. I hope everything went the way you planned it and oh, by the way? Could you tell me what it was? ;-)_

_Do we get to talk on the phone again soon? How is your family member getting on with their visit? It must be nice to have an extended family. I always thought I would have liked to have had a brother or sister. But I guess it wasn't meant to be. We've never talked about my parents, have we? I'll have to save that subject for another time, but don't hesitate to ask me anything, if you’re curious. I think they would like you. Just a feeling I have. You're so witty and clever, and you make their son happy. So yeah, they’d definitely be in the Redflash fan-club._ _J_

_I must be tired, I’ve practically gone insipid and romantic here, and we can't have that. Talk to you soon, I hope._

_-Harry_

_Harry-_

_I’m sorry for not writing sooner. I keep doing that, don’t I? Like you, I had a long night. And…my thing, my brave, bold thing I was going to do went… south. So I have nothing to report. C’est la vie, as zee French say._

_Having family is great, but I think I would much rather have it like you do. I don’t mean that in a bad way, it’s just…reading your stories of growing up with your godfather, it sounds like it was lovely. Your parents may not have been there, but you were loved, and you were cared for by someone they chose. And now the people you choose to surround yourself with…well, they are your family now, aren’t they? It doesn’t matter if they’re not blood. When you tell me stories about your uncle, your love for him shines through. And don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers but…oh, sometimes, Harry, sometimes I just want to throttle them._

_I haven’t asked about your parents yet because I assumed it was a sensitive subject. I can’t even imagine not knowing my Mum or Dad. They are my rocks. Especially my Mum. She can be quite formidable. She scares the socks off my git brothers at any rate. My dad is a bit eccentric, and I think I get my sense of humor from him. He has an interesting take on life, to say the least._

_I do want to talk again. Sometimes I find myself thinking of you throughout my day and wanting to share it, but I am not sure how often you’d like to be bothered. I can be a bit of a chatterbox, or so my brother tells me._

_I have a job interview soon, I can tell you that! Cross fingers for me. I am getting a bit worried. Nothing has come through for me yet. My brother gave me a bit of money, so that will help, but I hate feeling as though I owe someone something. It’s not a pride thing, not really. I just…I just want to be able to stand on my own two feet. Okay, I lied, it is a pride thing. But not in an obnoxious way. Does that make sense? I am not so stubborn that I won’t let someone help me, if I need it, but…yeah. Hopefully, you understand what I mean._

_Let’s talk tomorrow night if you are available. I'll call the same time as before, if that is acceptable?_ _J_

_-Red, who may have tried a cup of coffee this morning and sort of liked it_

_Red-_

_Tomorrow night, the same time as before, is perfect. My godfather and uncle will actually both be gone, and I'll be able to really relax. ;-) ( I don't mean that the way it sounded, honest, so get your mind out of the gutter, Red)_

_I know what you mean about needing to stand on your own two feet. My parents were fairly well off and left me a lot of money, but I didn't feel as though I had earned it in any way. Especially since I would rather have them in my life than…well, you know. I know you want to handle everything yourself since you’re ‘the girl’ in the family, but you know, sometimes, accepting someone’s help isn’t a bad thing. If we were actually together and not here, in cyberspace, I would hope that you would let me help you. Because I would want to. I take care of the people who matter the most to me._

_I will cross fingers for you! I hope you get the job you want. You never told me exactly what you do, but I am sure you are the most brilliant, amazing person doing it. ;-)_

_You can send me letters or phone messages any time you want. In all seriousness, I love hearing from you. Even if you just want to tell me how much you love coffee now and want to dedicate your life to making me the perfect cup. I’m here for you, Red._

_I’m a cheeky blighter, aren’t I? You bring it out of me. I love making you laugh, by the way. Did I mention? I can’t wait to do that tomorrow and…other things. See, there I go again. Cheeky, cheeky, cheeky. ;-) Please tell me you love it?_

_-Harry_

o-o-o-o-o

Six o’clock the next evening rolled around quicker than Harry would have thought. Sirius was off to Swindon for a dog show, and Remus was staying at Dora's for the night since she had been at work the past week and missed their usual Tuesday stay over. Remus had fretted about leaving Harry alone, but he had assured his uncle that he would be all right. He was going to Ron and Hermione's the next day and would make sure to eat something reasonably healthy. At least once.

He was actually just beginning to get back into the book he’d started when his phone went off. Harry picked it up, smiling.

“Hello, Harry Potter, evening phone sex operator at your service. What are you wearing?”

Red snorted and laughed in his ears. “Harry! What if I hadn’t been the one calling?”

"Well, then this phone call would have gone downhill very fast. Hey, how are you?"

“I’m fine. Actually, I’m now fantastic, since I’m talking to you. How was your day? You were on your own, right? What does the famous Harry Potter do where there’s no supervision?”

Harry chuckled. “Well, I slept in, which was amazing, then ate the breakfast Sirius left for me, then exercised it off.”

“What do you do to exercise? Do you go to a gym?”

"No, I have my own setup. After the accident, I needed someplace I could use without being gawked at. It’s small, but it serves its purpose. I have a treadmill, and I usually starting walking, then build up to running until my leg hurts. Then I have weights, those types of things.”

"Does your leg still hurt a lot?" she asked, sounding concerned.

“A bit. I tend to just ignore it, to be honest. But…yeah, I actually can't remember what it felt like for it to not hurt."

“That’s…that’s sad, Harry. Is that why you never play anymore? Not even for fun?”

“It’s not that sad, Red. I’m not in agony or anything. I mostly just feel twinges. And, yeah, I reckon at first, after retiring, I didn’t want anything to remind me of how it used to be. Every time I tried to play, the pain would just be another reminder of what I had given up. And I mean the game, not the fame or the money.”

“I know,” she said softly. There was a beat of silence between them. "So, what else did you do today?"

“Well, then I showered and did a bit of tidy up around the place. Whenever Sirius leaves on a trip, it’s like a storm blew through the house. Remus and I pretty much just accept it now. I had a meeting with my secretary, Ian. We’re breaking ground on a new Sports Center in a few weeks, in Dawlish. That took a big part of my afternoon, admittedly, and then I came up to my room to read, just waiting to hear your dulcet tones.”

Red chuckled. "What were you reading? You didn't mention you liked to read. Was it a sportsbook? Those are the only kinds of books my brother reads."

"No, I actually don't like to read sporty things, to be honest. I would much rather be playing. I…well, this is sort of embarrassing, I reckon, but I read mysteries, detective stories, those types of things. Is that silly? I just like figuring things out. I think I might have liked to have been a detective or something like that if football hadn't happened."

"No, it's not silly if you like it. I bet you love solving puzzles or riddles, don't you?"

“Well, if they are pleasantly shaped and have red-hair…” Harry let his voice trail off suggestively. He was rewarded with the rich sound of her laughter.

“I’ll have to remember that,” Red said, sounding amused.

“So, how about you? How as your day, and if you lingered in the shower at all, please, go into detail.”

“You are so incorrigible!” Red laughed.

“But you like it,” Harry said, knowing he sounded smug.

"I do, I have to admit. Well, I had my interview today, and I think it went really well. I won't hear until next week. After that, I hung out with my sister-in-law, who talked me down from my anxiety attack. She’s very good at that; she’s very sensible. Usually, I am too, but I really want this job, so…you know how that goes.”

"Yeah, the more you want something, the more…"

“Nervous you get, right. Should we be concerned we’re finishing each other’s sentences?”

Harry laughed. “No. It’s all normal and perfectly natural except for the fact that I don’t know your real name, Red. Are you ever going to tell me? Is it something horrible? Is that why you won’t tell me? Is your name Mildred? Gertrude? Bob?”

“Bob? You think I’m named Bob? A girl named Bob?”

Harry snickered. "Okay, the more you react, the more I think you are named Bob!"

“My name is not Bob, Harry.”

“Is it RedBob?”

"No!" Red said, laughing. They giggled together, and Harry felt a light-hearted joy within him that he hadn’t experienced since playing football.

“You make me happy,” Harry suddenly said without meaning to. He felt like an idiot for a moment until she sighed in his ear.

“I’m glad. You make me happy, too.”

“When are we going to meet again?” Harry asked, almost fearful of her answer.

There was a long silence from her side of the phone, and Harry had tensed up without realizing it. He almost exhaled audibly when she next spoke. He had thought he had scared her into hanging up.

“I do want to meet again, Harry. God, more than you know. But…I’m worried you’re going to be upset once we do.”

“Upset? Why would I be upset? Are you really bald? Is that why you were wearing that turban thing? I could like a bald girl, I think. You’d be very aerodynamic.”

“Harry!”

Harry laughed and felt relieved that the tension had gone out of their conversation. He had not wanted their easy-going conversation to end on such a sour note.

“I…I am scared of your reaction, that’s all. Because of reasons I can’t go into. God, I sound like a prat.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah, you kind of do, but I don’t want to spoil our night getting serious. But…Red, I think we should do it sooner than later, yeah? I know you have your reasons, and I’m trusting you. I just think if we want this play to move forward, we’re going to have to do it before the goalposts get moved.”

“Are you drinking anything?” she asked randomly, and Harry frowned at the change in topic.

“Er, not currently. Do I need water for this discussion?”

Red laughed. "No, I just thought we could get pissed while on the phone. I have some vodka and cranberry juice I could use in a pinch, how about you?”

“Hmm, I think Sirius has a couple bottles of something. I don’t normally drink at home, I admit. Should I go downstairs and investigate?”

Harry took the phone with him as he opened up the cupboard Sirius used for his various bottles of whiskey and gin. After poking around a bit, he found a bottle of an unopened bottle of Talisker Skye and cried ‘Eureka’ as Red laughed at him.

"So, you're a single malt man.” She chuckled. “But do you drink it straight or on the rocks?”

“For this conversation? Definitely on the rocks,” Harry said, grabbing Sirius's ice bucket and sticking some ice and a glass in it while he used his other hand to carry the whiskey. He tilted his head to the side, holding his phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could still talk to her as he made his way upstairs again.

“You don’t trust yourself?” Red was asking him.

“I just think it’s better to have my wits about me with you, that’s all,” Harry said, laughing.

Once he was settled again, he took a drink and sighed as the whiskey warmed his insides. “Ahh, good idea, Red. Are you set over there?”

“Yes, I’m actually on my second glass, so pick it up, Potter.”

“Yes, coach,” Harry said dutifully as he took another drink. “So what was this thing you had planned that you needed to be bold for? You never did say. You don’t think I notice when you evade my questions, but I do.”

Red sighed. “Oh, it was… Harry, what do you like the most about me?”

“Er, well, you laugh at my jokes, for one, and you snog like a drowning person breathes. And I like your voice and the way you express yourself. Why? What do you like the most about me?”

“I like how earnest and kind you are. I used to…I used to think that you would be hard to know, because of living your life in the spotlight, but you’re not, really. You’re so open with everything. And sexy as hell. Can’t forget that bit,” she laughed, a warm sound in his ear that made Harry’s heart beat faster. “Can I tell you a secret?” Red continued, sounding nervous.

“Of course,” Harry said automatically.

“When I was younger…I had a terrible crush on you. My brothers never knew, or at least, I don’t think they did. Or they would have teased me mercilessly. But my father knows. He’s the only one who does. Well, besides you, now.”

Harry smiled into the phone. “Oh, really? Did you use to have old posters of me in your room? Is that why you had my old jersey on the other time?”

Red laughed. “Yes, and yes. But I kept the poster on the inside of my wardrobe. God, this is so embarrassing. I can’t believe I told you that. Ugh, I am an idiot. You probably think I’m a groupie or something horrible like that. I’m not! I swear. I just…you were almost the same age as me when you started and so good at football. So natural. The way you played the game, I just felt like we had a kinship, somehow.”

"You know, it's funny you mentioned that as one of my mates was…well, remember the other day when I wrote about wanting to throttle the people that care about me? Well, he was going on about how you might be one of those groupie types, one of those women that cling to the next hyped player. But you’re not, and I never thought you were. And now, even knowing about your crush, I still don’t. I’m flattered, actually.”

“Well, then I’m glad I told you. It was bothering me that I hadn’t. I mean, I got over it, obviously. I haven't been pining for you or anything, Potter. Let's get that clear."

“Duly noted, Red,” Harry chuckled. “So… did you have any interesting fantasies during this crush of yours?”

She laughed. “I was only 14 years old, Harry! The result of my fantasies were thoughts of you sticking your tongue down my throat or something equally innocent, like holding my hand.”

"I don't know," Harry mused. "My fantasies were pretty vivid at that age if I remember. Noticing girls for the first time. I'm sure I walked around in a constant state of arousal for a least a year. And besides, sticking tongues down throats now makes me think of other activities I can use my tongue for.”

“Harry!” But she laughed at him, and he heard the clink of ice against glass across the line.

“Still drinking?” he asked.

“Yes, and thank god, it’s the only thing keeping me from hanging up this phone in utter embarrassment.”

“I kind of like this less inhibited you,” Harry said. “Remind me to get you amazingly pissed for our first date.”

"Our first date will hopefully be spent horizontally and perhaps up against a few choice furniture items, so there’ll be no need. Oh, god, listen to me.”

“I am. I have been. I like it,” Harry said, teasing her.

“How much?” Red asked, her voice turning sultry. Harry felt his excitement all the way down to his toes.

“Very much. So, er, you never did answer the first question of the evening. What are you wearing, Red?”

She sighed. “I took a shower before I called you, so not much at all. Just a dressing gown.”

“And you’re just mentioning this now? Bloody hell, woman, way to bury the lead. What color is this gown? And now I suddenly feel over-dressed."

Red laughed. “It’s purple. And if you have trousers and pants still on, then yes, you are very over-dressed, Harry. Best get on that.”

“I also like all your good suggestions,” Harry said, laughing. “Hang on.”

He placed the phone down and removed most of his clothes in record time, feeling his body respond. “Okay,” he said, picking the phone back up.

“You sound breathless,” she murmured.

“Just excited.”

“You’re such a _boy_ , Harry.” She giggled, and Harry felt himself respond.

“You know, Red, you don’t giggle very often, but when you do, I like it. It’s…arousing.”

She giggled again, and he heard her take another drink. She sighed in his ear. “I don’t normally act like a giggling first year, but you bring it out of me. You bring a lot of things out of me. Why do you think that is, Harry Potter?”

“My natural-born charisma?" Harry laughed despite himself. "That's what my godfather says. Also, I feel like I could say or do anything with you, and you wouldn't judge me or think I’m touched in the head. You have this amazing ability to just make me feel…safe. God, does that sound mawkish or what?”

“No, it sounds quite lovely, Harry. And I feel the same. I…I’m already quite ready over here if you catch my drift."

“I’m getting there myself,” Harry said, noting that his body had definitely been paying attention too.

“I thought I would be a bit more handsy tonight,” Red said, her voice lowering.

“Oh? No external help this time?”

“ Nope. Just the power of your dead-sexy voice.”

“Oh, the pressure is on, now,” Harry chuckled.

“Not quite, but it could be very soon."

Harry closed his eyes, imagining her. “Okay, Red, now don’t get offended in any way, but I need to create a visual here. What size are your breasts?”

“They match my body type, I suppose. They’re not small, but they’re not overly large. They fit in my hand.”

“Hmm nice,” Harry said, thinking of her touching herself. “Slip that hand in between your dressing gown, tease your nipples for me.”

“Are you this bossy in person?” Red asked, sounding breathless herself. “Don’t get me wrong, I like it.”

Harry chuckled. "No, mostly, I am a man of semi-action, not words. Hmm, perhaps that’s why Cho and I never had that sensational a sex-life.”

“You know, mentioning another woman’s name while I’m teasing myself over here wasn’t exactly clever.”

Harry cursed as she laughed at him. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up ghosts from the past.”

“It’s okay, but…was your sex life really that bad?” She asked, sounding curious.

"I don't know? I reckon I was okay with it at the time, but…my godfather sort of pointed out we weren't as passionate as we could have been? She is…she was, the only woman I’ve technically been with.”

“And yet you’re so knowledgeable and sexy on this phone," she said.

"Hmm," Harry said frowning.

“What is it, Harry? What were you just thinking?”

Harry paused, not wanting to say, and yet he couldn't help himself. "I just thought that it would be awful if this is as good as I get. What if in person, I’m complete shit? This could be the shortest love affair known to man.”

“Oh, Harry,” Red murmured. “I don't think you're going to be complete shit. You already know how to turn me on, and really, anything after that can be learned or explained or worked with, yeah? My first boyfriend was bollocks at sex, and I’m not saying that’s how you were with Cho, but he eventually got better, and I probably did, too.”

“It’s easier for girls, though, I think,” Harry said, not able to let his anxiety go now that it had reared its head.

“Oh? Do you think? First, it hurts us, if the man doesn’t, you know, get us ready, which let’s face it, half you lot don’t know the first thing about _that_. And then, even if we are ready, it can still be sore. And then of course, even after your body gets used to being invaded, you have to learn other things, like going down on a bloke. The first time I did it, I was worried I was going to hurt him! He said later that I was too gentle and too slow, and he'd thought about asking me to just stop. I was mortified.”

Harry thought about it and realized she was right. “I never thought of it that way before. I suppose as a man, I’ve often just thought a woman just needs to show up and be willing.”

Red laughed. “We have the same insecurities and anxieties as you, trust me. And don’t even get me started on the whole ‘how does my body look in this light? Am I too skinny? Am I too fat? Will he like the way I smell? The way I taste?’ It’s ridiculous, really.”

"Amazingly, it's a wonder any of us do it at all,” Harry said, chuckling.

“Well, when we do finally manage to pull our heads out our own arses, it can be quite fun, admittedly.”

“So this boyfriend of yours who was bullocks in bed, what was his name?”

Red laughed. “I said he got better. His name was Michael, and we were both 19. And utterly clueless. Although I think I was slightly better off than most girls, having brothers and understanding the male… _need_.”

“How many tries did it take until he really made you…cry out with pleasure?”

Red snorted. “Aren’t you a Nosy Ned?”

“Not really, I was just wondering how long it took the poor blighter to hear such a gorgeous sound. Some of us got it right in one."

She gave a hearty laugh, and Harry chuckled along with her. "As I said earlier, incorrigible. Hmm, I think it took a few times. I never had one during, but afterward or before, he eventually got around to it. Now, my last boyfriend…he was good. Oh goodness. Yes.”

“Now this bloke, I hate,” Harry said, suddenly feeling petulant.

"So do I, come to think of it. He cheated on me if you must know. So as good as he was, he didn't know when to keep it to himself. The tosser.”

Harry wanted to comfort her immediately; he had never heard her voice sound so bitter. Or lost.

“I’m sorry, Red. I didn’t mean to bring us down. I’m sorry that happened to you. I can’t even…I can’t fathom it, to be honest. Some blokes don’t know what they have. They're just in it for how many girls they can pull, or they get off on the cheating. I saw it all the time while playing. I have never understood that mindset. Whoever this berk was, he didn’t deserve you.”

She was quiet for a long time, and he waited, knowing she was still there, feeling and thinking things.

"I…took it hard when it happened. I…was blindsided by it, I have to admit. I thought we were good. I mean, I don't think I thought it was love, but…he made me laugh, and he made me feel pretty great about myself. He was so…attentive. I was floored when I found him in…her bed. I just…lost it. It's sort of shaken my confidence more that I'd like to admit."

Her voice was shaky, and Harry swore to himself. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

There was such a stillness on the other side of the line that Harry almost thought they had been disconnected. He realized belatedly what he’d said and felt shocked at his own slip.

“Er, Red, I…er…that wasn’t a, um, pronouncement of any kind. I, er, that is…it was a term of endearment. Don’t freak out.”

He eventually heard her chuckle, and her voice sound strangled as though it was hard for her to speak. "It's a nice term. Um. I don’t feel so sexy anymore. I’m sorry, Harry.”

"It's fine," Harry said. All previous thoughts of whatever they'd been about to do had honestly gone out of his head. “I’m not feeling it either, to be honest. I do wish I could hold you, though. Offer you some sort of comfort. I think you’re brilliant, Red. Don’t let what that knob head did make you not believe in yourself.”

“Tell me a story, Harry. Let me just listen to you…being you."

Harry frowned, trying to think of something. “Oh, all right. Let me tell you about this one time my godfather tried to help me fix his motorbike. He has one, or, he did. I sort of messed it up, and now he keeps it as a trophy to my complete daftness. First, what you have to understand is that I am not mechanically inclined. At all. Complete thumbs. As Sirius says, it’s a minor miracle I can work the dishwasher…”

Harry launched into the old familiar tale of how, when he was 14, he thought it’d be cool to ride Sirius’s broken motorbike and had taken it upon himself to fix it, without any help from anyone else. Until Sirius had come into the garage and found his motorbike in a million pieces.

Harry could soon tell Red was feeling better by the way she kept laughing, and he felt cheered. The heavy emotions they'd conjured up soon seem to disappear into the night, and they chatted for longer than they ever had before. And when they said goodnight, he could tell she was her usual cheeky self. They hung up, and Harry smiled to himself as he let his eyes close. He was tired but sated with a sense of well-being and a budding feeling of happiness.

o-o-o-o-o


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finally finds out who the mysterious Red is... but how will he react?

Chapter 6:

“And here are the lists of the potential employees I wanted you to see. There are one or two that have remarkable CV’s that I’m particularly interested in. There is one, she’s done mostly PR work in the past, but she's really quite clever and keen to try something new. She has a brother who is a rehab coach, and she expressed an interest in working with the girls, one on one. She has also played football most of her life and even thought about going professional.”

Harry accepted the folders Ian was handing him, glancing at the one he’d placed on the top of the pile.

“She sounds great. What’s her name?” Harry asked as Ian bent down to retrieve yet more folders.

“Er, Weasley. Yeah. Ginevra Weasley. I interviewed her on Friday. She’s on top there.”

Harry blinked at Ian, not sure he had heard him right. “I know her. Well, I know her brother. We’re best mates.”

“Oh? Really? She said her brother was interested in the new center too. Said he might want to do some volunteer work for us once we got up and running."

Harry grabbed the top folder and flipped it open. Sure enough, it was Ginny Weasley’s CV. Harry didn’t hear the rest of what Ian was saying as his eyes gazed at the paper in front of him. It was a strong CV, and he was surprised by all the work Ginny had apparently done before her time with Arsenal. A lot of it had been with non-profit organizations, and, as Ian had said, she had listed her many years spent playing football and the various teams. Harry was impressed.

"Er, Harry?" Ian was staring at him, expectantly.

“Um, sorry, I was reading. What did I miss?”

"Oh, just that the Weasley girl, in particular, could help us out in a lot of different areas at the Dawlish Center. She expressed a desire to take some courses to help her get her degree in Sports Science, eventually. Plus, she’s really likable. I think the young girls at the center would really respond to her. I'd like you to meet up with her to get your final okay, though.”

“Like I said, I know her,” Harry paused, frowning as a stray thought in his memory was poking at him, reminding him of something. He looked at Ian after a moment. “Go ahead and give her the job, but don’t tell her I was involved.”

“Er, okay. Any reason why, Harry?”

“I’m friends with her brother. I don’t want her to think I did it as a favor to him, that’s all. She’s had a bit of a hard time of it recently, and she could probably use the morale booster. Besides, I trust your judgment, Ian.”

The other man flashed a quick smile at him and took Ginny’s CV back. “All right, if that’s how you want it, but I think you should meet her if only to enjoy being in the same room as her. She's quite attractive. But then, I suppose you've seen that yourself. Now, about these other two…"

Ian was off again, and Harry nodded his head, half-listening. Yeah, he knew Ginny Weasley was attractive. And apparently a hard-working, giving person. With a lousy temper. Harry shook himself, reminding himself that Ginny Weasley had just had a rough time and that according to her brother, was not mad at all. Also, she really didn’t seem to like him much. Harry wondered why she had applied to work at one of his centers.

After finishing up with Ian, Harry drove Sirius’s Jeep back to the kennel. His godfather was just coming out of his office as Harry pulled up.

“Hello, godson. Fancy a bite?”

“Sure, where should we adventure-eat today?” Harry said, scooting over in the seat to let Sirius take over driving. Harry could drive reasonably well; he just didn’t like to. Remus always said it was because of what had happened to his parents.

“Hmm, my stomach says pub food. Let’s visit Hagrid, eh?”

Harry agreed, and as Sirius drove them to The Dragon’s Wake, he told his godfather about his meeting and about hiring Ron’s sister.

“Do you think that was wise, though?” Sirius asked.

“Sure, why not?”

“Well, what if she’s rubbish, Harry? Then you’d not only have to let her go but explain to her brother why. That could get tricky.”

“I don’t think she is, though. I mean, true we’ve never held a conversation together, but all the Weasleys are pretty clever, and her CV was amazing. She really impressed Ian.”

“Oh, well, we know how tough Ian is.” Sirius chuckled. “How long did it take for him to tell you how pretty she was?”

“Ian’s not like that,” Harry said as they got out of the Jeep. The door to the pub was open, and already Harry could smell the wonderful scent of fried food in the early afternoon air. He glanced at Sirius. “And it took him at least eight minutes, maybe nine before he mentioned it.”

Sirius barked out a laugh as they entered the pub.

“Harry! Sirius!” The booming voice of their friend called to them from the bar, and Harry smiled and waved at Hagrid. A large man with a long, curly beard, he looked quite intimidating until he smiled at you. As soon as that happened, it was as though he turned into a giant, sweet softy of a man. Harry had always known Hagrid, ever since he was a little boy. He had spent many an hour sitting at Hagrid’s feet, listening to his tales. An avid animal tracker in his youth, he had thrilled Harry with stories of game hunts in the wilds of Africa, Russia, and even the local Forest of Dean. But now Hagrid was more of conservationist, and when not running his pub, he was out defending the earth and _all_ of her furry inhabitants.

“What can I get yeh two?” Hagrid asked as he lumbered over too them.

“Burger for me, Hagrid,” Sirius said, nodding at their friend. “And a delicious pint of that new ale you got in last week.”

“Ah, the new McGonagall label, the Tartan Cat. I knew yer’d like that one, Sirius.” Hagrid turned to Harry. “And what about you, ‘arry? Feeling adventuresome? Norbert’s special today is his Toad-in-the-Hole, served with buttered courgette. Whadya say?”

“I think I’ll just have the fish and chips, Hagrid, and just some lemonade and lime, yeah?”

Hagrid nodded at them and moved towards the kitchen to put their orders in. It was a light crowd since it was still early, and they practically had the place to themselves. Choosing to sit in the corner, away from the bar, Harry and Sirius settled in as Hagrid brought their drinks over.

“So, how’s your love life?” Sirius asked as they’d both enjoyed their beverages in silence for a few moments. Sirius smacked his lips unapologetically as he drank half of his ale.

Harry shook his head. “Fine.”

Sirius raised his eyebrow. “Just fine? Any plans to meet soon to make it more than fine?”

"No. But we talked for a long time on Saturday. And no rumpy-pumpy happened, I might add, which just proves my point that this girl is more than just a phone friend with benefits.”

“What’s wrong, though?” Sirius asked after giving him a sharp look. “I can tell something is bothering you.”

Harry sighed. “I was just thinking…well, me and her sort of talked about our exes and our past experiences and…what if I’m rubbish at the actual physical part, Sirius? What if…this…talking is all I can do properly?”

“Cho ever say you were rubbish?”

Harry felt his skin heat. “Er, no. But then again, I described our sex life as 'adequate.'"

“Well, it probably was. For her as well as for you. Adequate doesn’t mean bad, it just means…it was what it was. Trust me, Harry, no woman is going to be with a man for as long as Cho was with you if he’s bad in bed. Well, no normal woman. Cho seemed pretty normal to me.”

“You said she was a cold fish,” Harry said, pursing his lips. Hagrid brought their food over then before Sirius could reply, and the next few moments were spent eating. When Sirius finally put his burger down, he looked at Harry with a frank expression.

"When you were with Cho, did she er…arrive?"

Harry stared at his godfather. “Um. Arrive? Like, on a train?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes and gave him a steady look. Harry blinked at him and then understood his meaning. “Oh, you mean, did she… did she… er, well, yeah? I mean, most of the time? If not during, then I made sure afterward she did. I remember the talk you and Remus gave me. Always make sure your partner is satisfied, I believe that’s what you two told me.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I said to make sure she’s forgotten her name and screamed herself hoarse, but tomato-tomahto, Harry. Look, the fact that this is something you did, means, by default, that you're at least acceptable in bed. But each partner is different, and you'll find that out. It could be this girl of yours knocks your socks off and vice versa. But if you sit here and think about it too much, then it is going to make you bad in bed only because you've worked yourself up into a knot about it."

Harry chewed his food thoughtfully. “We don’t seem to have any problem with the talking part, that’s for sure. And…she makes me feel super comfortable about things. I honestly can’t believe how confident I felt talking to her.” Harry paused and smirked at his godfather. “I bet you never once had this problem, did you?”

Sirius grinned. “I got on…I _get_ on, very well with the ladies, you know this. But I didn't start out that way, and I put myself to the task at hand. I paid attention to every bird I was with. But each woman is different – just like each man is different. What works for some may not work for others. You just have to figure out what you both want. And just let things happen, Harry. Don’t force anything.”

Sirius paused and studied Harry. “Is this why you haven’t pushed her for a real date? Because you’ve been worried about this stuff?”

"Maybe?" Harry asked frowning. "I originally didn’t want to push her or scare her away, but perhaps I had my own issues to think about first.”

“You have to learn to go with the flow, Harry. I believe that's the expression they use nowadays. Let your mind go, and your body will follow, yeah?”

“You’re right, of course,” Harry finally admitted. “But still, her last boyfriend cheated on her, and I think she’s sort of gun shy.”

Sirius grimaced. "Ouch. Yeah, birds don't tend to bounce back from that one very well. But you can tell her from me that eventually, she's going to have to get back out there. Get on the horse again. And that you’re just the stallion to help her.”

Harry snorted into his drink and shook his head. “I can’t believe women actually go out with you sometimes. Speaking of, how did your date go the other night? Why haven’t you mentioned anything about her?”

“As your elder, I’m supposed to bother you, not you bother me, let’s get that straight, godson.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry chuckled. Sirius had a track record for keeping his lady friends to himself. Something about not wanting anyone ( meaning Harry, of course) to get too attached to her until he knew she'd be around for a while. There were not many who had made the cut through the years, admittedly.

“You know, Sirius, I am older now, and you don’t have to worry about bringing someone ‘round. I do understand the nature of female, male dynamics a bit better than when I was 10. You don’t have to worry about me getting attached to them and being upset when they leave.”

Sirius sighed as he finished his food. “I know, Harry. It’s just…habit, I reckon. Remus and Dora…you look at them, and they’re a set now, you know? And I want that for you, too, but…I think that for me, I’m just bound to be alone. And I’m not sad about that; I like playing the field. Too many interesting women out there for me to settle, that’s all. Some of us are built for monogamy, and some of us aren't. This dog is meant to run free.” He pointed his thumb at himself and grinned.

“But you can understand why that makes the rest of us a bit sad for you though, right?” Harry asked.

“I have you, and Remus, and a job I adore, a job that gets me outside, playing with the pups all day, I might add. I’m really set. Don’t worry about me.”

Harry sighed. This was an age-old conversation he’d been having with his godfather for so long now that it really didn’t bear repeating. He knew Sirius was happy – he knew he wasn’t moping or lacking for any female companionship, really. Still, Harry didn’t think his parents would approve of Sirius living his life alone.

“What would my dad say if he were here, do you think?”

Sirius pushed back from the table, grabbing his wallet to pay the tab. “He’d be looking at me just like you were, shaking his head and trying to tell me that being a one-woman man is the greatest thing since chocolate was invented.”

"I don't care how many women you have, Sirius," Harry said as they stood up. "Have two at a time, or even get another man in there for a threesome, er, I guess that would technically be a foursome. I just don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

“I am not having a threesome,” Sirius snorted. “Well, not with another man, at any rate. But if I could find three ladies willing to share the exquisiteness that is me, I just might go for it. Be a bit complicated, though, I reckon. Don't know if I could really give them all the attention they deserved. Wouldn’t be fair to the birds.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. They said goodbye to Hagrid and headed out into the afternoon. Sirius had more dogs to train, so he dropped Harry off at their house. Harry headed upstairs and turned on his computer, smiling when he saw Red’s letter.

_Harry –_

_I woke up with thoughts of you this morning. I had to make myself a cup of coffee, just to feel closer to you. My sister-in-law came over and couldn’t believe I’d given up tea. I had to set her straight about that! You will never make me a total coffee drinker, no matter what, but I am beginning to understand why you like it. ;-)_

_I haven't heard back about the new job, which is okay. We've decided it's okay, at any rate. I am not worried about it. I am not. See how convincing I sound?_

_My friend, Luna, the one who was helped by your Center, came by today too – she’s been off traveling. She writes travel guides for magazines and just got back from Sri Lanka! She’s only home for a few days before she’s off again, this time to Kuala Lumpur. Sometimes I envy her – she gets to leave all of this craziness behind and immerse herself into other cultures - see new sights and try new foods. I am sure it can be dreary too, or so she insists, but I don’t know. I feel restless lately. Perhaps because my life isn’t settled in any way currently. There’s the work thing, then there’s family stuff and then…there’s you. And this. Whatever this is._

_You are the most pleasurable thing in my life right now. And I am wary of rocking this even keel we have going, but I know we are going to have to face each other eventually. That sounds dire when I put it like that, doesn’t it? I don’t mean it that way. Part of me can’t wait, actually. I want to touch you and see your face when I make you laugh. Or when we…do other things to each other. You know what I mean, I’m sure._

_I usually am fairly confident with men – growing up with brothers toughened me up, no doubt. I figure if they don't like me for whatever reason, then it's their loss and my escape. But what happened with…my ex really smashed some core beliefs I’d had. Now, in retrospect, I can see all the little clues were there. His secretiveness, his need to continually tell me to look good while we were out so that the papers could say his girlfriend was lush, things like that. He also always wanted to open doors for me or carry everything as though I was helpless. Like I couldn’t kick his arse on the field if I wanted! He treated me like porcelain. But not in a ‘your so unbelievably precious to me’ way, but in a ‘oh, don’t break, oh, delicate flower’ way. I reckon I was just too much trouble in the end._

_My brother tells me I don’t let people in right away, that I hold all my cards close to my chest. Part of that has to do with the things in my past, I've mentioned. The things that keep me wary of sharing too much, too soon. But I want to say, Harry, before anything else happens, that you have definitely got in. You’re quite simply, fantastic. And even if everything falls to shit when we meet, know that I have cherished getting to know you in this way. You are so funny and so clever and so…kind. And it has meant more to me than you’ll ever know._

_See what coffee has done to me? I’m practically waxing poetic here. And I'm just an emotional headcase, perish the thought. But we'll talk soon, yeah?_

_-Red_

Harry read her letter twice, sighing. He grabbed his mobile from the nightstand by his bed and dialed her number, hoping she was available.

“Hello?”

“Red, it’s me. Er, Harry.” He suddenly felt silly for calling first without making sure she was okay with it. “Listen, don’t hang up, and I’m sorry for bothering you in the middle of the day like this, but I just read your letter. I was compelled to hear your voice.”

There was a small silence on the line, and then he heard her sigh. "It’s okay, I was actually just sitting here, hoping to see your response. I’m sorry if it was too much. I didn’t mean to…go on and be all girly on you.”

Her laugh sounded bitter, and Harry wanted to put her at ease. "No, the letter was great, I was mostly concerned with how you were feeling. I feel like you were beating yourself up for having emotions.”

She laughed again. It was short and harsh sounding. Not at all like her usual happy laugh.

_“_ Why are you so bloody understanding, Harry?”

“Because I get it. You hide your feelings from other people. You keep it all inside, and then you explode or crumble. I can sort of be the same way. Luckily Remus and Sirius never let me get away with it for too long as a kid. And having emotions doesn’t make you girly, it makes you human.”

“My brothers never wanted to deal with me having emotions, so I grew up thinking it wasn’t right to let other people see me be weak. Which is ironic, as they are the biggest bunch of … they get angry and upset about things just like me, but when they do it, it's okay. When I do it…it's because I'm a girl.”

“I’m sure it’s not as unfair as all that,” Harry said, settling on his bed.

“No, I reckon you’re right. I am being unfair. But we are known for having outbursts. Oh, Harry, I’m sorry to unload on you.”

"It's fine, it's why I called you. I wanted to make sure you're all right." Harry paused as he heard her sniffle quietly. "And you are, aren’t you, Red? I mean, you have me, the most wonderful, understanding man in all of England to talk you off your ledge.”

Harry was finally rewarded by the rich sound of her true laugh, and it warmed his insides. 

"I could call you a git, but I won't," she said chuckling.

“Well, thank you for restraining yourself. I know it’s hard,” Harry said as she chuckled again.

"Yes, I do tend to make things… _hard_ , don’t I?”

“And you call me incorrigible.” Harry laughed. "I'm supportive bloke right now, keep your innuendo to a minimal, please, Red.”

“Let’s meet, Harry. Today. Right now. Let’s just…do it.”

Harry was stunned at first and then felt his stomach drop. “Er, really? I mean…really?”

“I just…I want to see you. Touch you. Oh, except it wouldn’t be like that, would it? We’d be all nerves and awkwardness and…I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“No, it’s fine, I like that you get carried away,” Harry said, lowering his voice. “In fact, it is one of my favorite things about you. But I want us to meet when we’re both ready and not just to do it to get it over with. Does that make sense?”

She was quiet for such a long time that Harry worried he'd hurt her feelings. When she spoke, finally, he released the breath he'd been holding.

“You’re right. I’m probably not prepared right now. Maybe after I hear about the job and I feel like I have my confidence back. I would hate for your…well, for your new impression of me to be of a sopping hose pipe.”

“I would never think that, Red.”

“See, like I said in my letter, you’re awfully kind, Harry. You have a good heart.”

“Remus always tells me I take after my Mum that way.”

“Tell me about them…I know you don’t remember them, but tell me a story that you know. Which one of them do you take after the most?”

“Hmm. Well, Sirius always tells me I look just like my Dad, and Remus always tells me I tend to act more like my Mum. I have her eyes, I know that. But I have my Dad to thank for the messy hair and bad eyesight you enjoy so much. I think my dad was a bit braver than I am? More adventuresome. I tend to let my nerves get to me and over-think things sometimes. Sirius is always here to tell me to relax.”

“Which one of them was athletic?”

“My dad. Mum was into chemistry and figuring things out. That’s probably where I get my love of puzzles and mysteries from. My dad didn't play football, but he really enjoyed cricket and had good reflexes, according to Sirius. Which is why it is so odd…the way they uh, died.”

“You don’t have to go into it, if you don’t want,” Red said quietly after a moment. “Just keep telling me about them. Your voice is so full of love as you talk about them. Your godfather and uncle kept their memory alive for you, didn’t they?”

"Yeah," Harry said, after a moment. "Sirius really made sure I knew my folks when I was younger. He was forever telling me stories and showing me old photos. And I do feel as though I know them a bit. But I still miss them. I tend to think of them every day in one way or another. I wish I could talk to my dad about you. Or no, probably my mum would be best.”

“Think she’d approve of me?”

“Oh, definitely. She was strong and full of life and had a great sense of humor. Just like you, Red.”

She sighed, but it was no longer fraught with sadness. “You say the sweetest things, right when I need you to, Harry. How do you do that?”

“I’m very talented,” Harry said. Red laughed.

“Thank you for calling. I really appreciate it. It was…what I needed. Just a friend talking to me. Because we are friends, right? No matter what happens romantically? I couldn’t bear to think of not talking to you, Harry.”

“I can honestly say I couldn’t bear not talking to you either, Red. You’ve become a part of my daily life, really.”

“When we meet again, I hope it stays that way,” she said softly.

“Honestly, I can’t imagine it changing. Unless you’re …nope, see, I can’t even come up with anything. You’re stuck with me.”

She chuckled. “I have to go. I have an impending visit with departing family members, but write to me, all right? Tell me about your godfather. I need to know how to impress him, I think. He holds a lot of sway over you, something tells me.”

“He already likes you because he sees how happy you make me,” Harry said.

“Still, a girl needs a back-up plan for impressing important father figures, you know. I’ll talk to you later, Harry.”

They hung up, and Harry stared at his ceiling, thinking about their conversation. He was glad he had called her. She had seemed much happier after their talk, and he was glad. Harry understood her a little bit more now. Each new conversation opened up other doors for him to enter and explore. He couldn’t wait until he could know all of her.

o-o-o-o-o-o

_Red-_

_The thing about Sirius is…he loves a good laugh. Good food, good drink, and good people around him are usually all he needs, or so he says. He is candid and forthright, as well as charming and very handsome. Women love Sirius. As he often likes to brag. ;-). But…the thing is, it’s not really bragging. Women do love him – all of my life, I have watched him interact with them, trying to just, in my own way, learn to be like him. I fail, of course. I know you don’t tend to believe it because of how I act with you, but I’m hopeless. I am not smooth. But Sirius? Oh, yeah._

_I love him more than anything in this world, Red. Him and my uncle. I don't even want to contemplate what kind of person I would be today if not for their love, patience, and understanding. If Sirius hadn’t taken me in and stepped up to fulfill his godfather duties, I’d have been stuck with my Mum’s family in Surrey. I’ve met them once, and it was all I needed to know that I would not have done well with them. A cockroach wouldn’t do well with them._

_Sirius likes to tinker with things. He prefers to be outdoors rather than in, and he likes trying new dishes, not because of a love of cooking, necessarily, but because he likes whatever is new or different or exotic. He is also clever and knowledgeable about the ways of the heart. Or, at least, he understands mine. He and my dad were best mates from the first time they met. Sirius didn't like his own family, so my Dad's took him in. They were brothers in all but blood, basically._

_My uncle is different than Sirius. He is more cautious and less loud, for one. He is very intelligent and loves to learn. He is currently a Professor, although he once told me he dreamed of walking on the moon when he was younger (Sirius calls him Moony). He became ill a few years back, and it ruined his plans. His illness, when it hit, was devastating. We didn't know what was wrong with him for a long while, and it was a very rough patch for Sirius and me. Remus is sort of the glue that holds us together. He was also friends with my Dad, but sometimes I think he was closer to my Mum. Sirius likes to say my uncle has a gentle soul. And he does. If I was hurt or upset or anything, he was always there for me, no matter what. Sirius cheers me up, but Remus nurtures me. Well, the emotional me. ;-) He is in a wheelchair – I mention it only because most people don't expect it – and he gets along fine, regardless. He never let his illness stop him. I saw him struggle and fight to adjust to his new way of living, and it was hard for him. But his resilience is what motivated me after my injury, and whenever I felt like giving up or not working at learning to walk again, I would think of what Remus went though and get off my arse._

_There is a third person in our little group – Remus's girlfriend, Dora Tonks. She was his nurse, and I think she loved him from the start, but he put up a fight. He didn’t think any woman would want him in his condition, but she is as stubborn as he is and stuck around. Now they’re great together. She's perfect for him, I think. The two of us enjoy sharing books and mysteries. When they first got together, I thought it would change things, but she quickly fit into our lives. She laughs at Sirius’s antics and doesn’t pull any punches when my uncle gets in one of his moods. I think Remus is going to ask her to marry him soon. And I will be sad if that means he is going to move out, but happy for him, too. After all the things he's been through, he deserves some happiness._

_-Harry, who now wants to hear about your brothers. How many do you have, anyway? I get the sense there are at least two. Am I wrong?_

o-o-o-o-o

“Harry!” Hermione's voice echoed through the shop, and he turned to find her waving at him from two aisles away. He gave the woman who’d been shopping next to him a thin smile as she sniffed in disapproval. Hermione met him half-way and threw her arms around him in greeting.

“I thought that was you! Ron’ll be happy you’re here, he was just saying he missed you at dinner last night. Come, put your items in our trolley, and you can help me finish.”

“Er, I was almost done,” Harry started, but she shushed him.

“Ron!”

“What?”

“Look who I found over by the cereal!”

A moment later, Ron grumpily stuck his head around a corner, his arms full of pasta boxes. His face brightened when he saw Harry.

“Fancy meeting you here," Ron said as he dumped his groceries into the trolley that Hermione had pulled up next to them.

“Ron, you two go get the produce; I’ll go to the meat counter.” Hermione shoved a shopping list at them and pushed the trolley at her husband without waiting for a reply. Ron shook his head and smiled.

“She’s a bit intense in the shops, sorry, Harry. But now we can catch up, and I can teach you how to pick the perfect melon.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “Is picking the perfect melon a talent I need?”

“No, probably not, but you never know when a melon-tastrophe will rear its ugly head in the Granger-Weasley household. Hey, grab some of those tomatoes over there for me. So, where have you been keeping yourself? You haven't been over in ages. Everything still all right?"

Harry nodded. “It is now. Remus had a bit of a relapse, and he was back in hospital for a few nights. Sorry I’ve been missing your calls. The new Center is underway too, and I’ve been running back and forth to Dawlish, when not taking care of my uncle. I’m a bit knackered, to be honest. I haven’t even had a chance to talk to Red all that much.”

“You still don’t know her name?” Ron stopped and looked at him as though shocked.

Harry shook his head. “Let’s just skip to the part where you understand and move on, Ron.”

His friend didn’t say anything, but Harry could tell from the pink tint of his skin that he wanted to. They finished getting the rest of the things off Hermione's list and drifted back the way they had come.

“Sorry,” Ron said quietly. “I don’t mean to be a prat. How is your uncle? That’s the real question.”

Harry smiled to let Ron know he wasn't actually angry. “He’s good. Much better. One of the newer medicines he started taking interacted with something else, and it threw his system out of whack. He started having pain in his arms and hands. We didn’t know what to think. But they got it sorted. Thank God.”

“Well, that’s good, right? He still experiencing the pain sensation?”

“No, it eventually wore off. He’s been released and is at home for now. He thinks he can return to work soon. I’m just relieved that’s all it was. He’s in good spirits, actually. And Dora has practically moved in to take care of him. But when she’s at work, I sit with him.”

“That’s rough,” Ron said. "But at least he's in the right mindset. That's half the battle. I can always tell. When someone comes to me injured, if they’re going to eventually be all right – it all depends on their outlook and their mood. If those two things are positive, it’s just a question of healing and work.”

Hermione joined them and slipped a few more things into the trolley. When she looked at their faces, she frowned. "What's wrong?"

Harry smiled. “Nothing, I was just telling Ron about my uncle. He’s been in hospital. But he’s good now, honest.” Harry waved off Hermione’s motion to give him another hug. She took Ron’s hand instead and squeezed it.

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry! You should have told us, we could have sat with you or something.”

“Remus didn’t really want anyone to know. But like I said, he’s good. About half-way to great, actually. I’m just glad it seems to be over for now.”

"Come to ours for dinner tonight, if you can, Harry. You looked exhausted and in need of some cheering up, "Hermione said. “I won’t make anything scary. Just good, delicious food. How about some roasted chicken and potatoes?”

Harry had wanted to catch up on some reading (something he was sure Hermione would be okay with) and maybe call Red, but the pull of a nice, home-cooked meal did appeal to him. He and Sirius had barely been existing on take-away and the food from the canteen at the hospital.

“All right, let me just make sure Dora is off tonight to be with Remus, and I'll drag my hungry self over."

Hermione's eyes brightened with happiness, and they made plans for later. Harry walked home, his meager bag of supplies (mostly just coffee needs and breakfast food) wasn't too much to carry. When he entered the house, he heard music blaring from the speakers in the living room. When Harry turned the sound down, he heard the unmistakable warble of his godfather from the kitchen. Sirius came into the room, looking disgruntled.

“Hey! That was the Sex Pistols!”

“It was loud enough to wake the dead,” Harry said pointedly. “How’s Remus?”

“He’s fine. Dora put him in the chair, and they're out for a little turn around the neighborhood. What did you get at the shops?”

“Just milk, coffee, coffee filters, more coffee, sugar, and cereal."

“Well, at least we’ll be set for coffee ingredients. I’m making chocolate biscuits right now. We can eat those with all the coffee.”

"I ran into Ron and Hermione, and they invited me over for dinner, so one less cup for me, thanks.”

“Fine, I think Remus wants Dora to cook tonight, anyway. It seems he didn't like my Mexican Night Taco in a Crumpet idea.”

Harry looked at his godfather. “None of us liked your Taco in a Crumpet idea."

“Heathens. You lot don’t know a good thing when you see it.”

Harry rolled his eyes and headed upstairs for a quick shower and to send off a short note to Red. They’d been missing each other the last few days – she was gone when he was around, and vice versa. But he had been keeping her updated about Remus’s health, and even though they had only talked through their email, he was thankful for her presence. Red’s humor and interesting way of looking at things had been a balm to his anxieties over his uncle’s condition.

_Red-_

_I decided to head over to a mate's house for dinner. I was hoping we could actually chat on the phone later, but trust me when I say I need to get out of here for the night. Tell me how late is too late to call and maybe I can ring you when I get back._

_I miss our daily chats and exchanges. Hopefully, things go back to normal around here. Remus is much better – I think Sirius was super worried, and now he’s going overboard with being cheerful and trying new things to keep us entertained. Remind me to tell you about the Taco in a Crumpet debacle we had for dinner the other night._

_Harry – who really misses your voice and can’t remember what it sounds like_

o-o-o-o-o

“Come on in, Harry,” Ron said, opening the door. Harry handed him the bottle of wine he’d stopped and picked up for dinner.

“I hope it goes with chicken,” Harry said as Ron looked at it.

“It should. I’ve had this one before, it’s perfect. Especially since Hermione made her apricot roasted chicken tonight, you’re in for a treat. It’s the best thing she makes, but don’t tell her that. Or she’ll just save it for special occasions.”

Harry was stopped short when he saw he wasn't the only person who'd shown up for dinner.

"You remember Ginny, right, Harry?" Ron was saying, nodding at this sister. "Don't worry, I told her not to take you out again by walking into you."

“Brilliant, Ron, please tell that story again and again,” Ginny said sardonically. She gave Harry a brief smile. “Hi, we’ve, er, never been properly introduced. I’m Ginny, this git’s far nicer and more appealing sister.”

Harry stared as Ginny offered him her hand. He shook it, giving her a brief smile back. He felt a nervous fluttering in his stomach for some reason. “Um, hi,” Harry said, feeling stupid. “Er, we’ve met. Um, not really. Hi.” Ginny gave him an amused glance, her cheeks turning pink, and then looked at her brother.

“Well, come on, Ron, open the wine. I think we could all use a drink.”

As Ron went through to the kitchen to find a corkscrew, Harry watched Ginny as she wandered over to the other side of the table. He didn’t realize he’d been staring until she looked at him, a question on her face.

“How’s your uncle?”

Harry blinked at her.

“Ron told me.”

“Oh. Oh, he’s better, yeah. Thanks. I’m relieved, actually.”

Harry felt like an idiot. He couldn’t seem to shake the strange feeling he got every time Ginny Weasley looked at him or addressed him directly. Or maybe it was just Harry’s curse that he always went mute in front of a beautiful girl. Because Ginny was exceptionally pretty tonight. Her hair was bright and had many different shades of red that seemed to glitter in the warm light of the room. It was down and hung loosely around her face. And she was wearing a simple blue dress that showed off the slim expanse of her shoulders, which were freckled, as were her arms and legs. Harry felt inexplicably drawn to her. And then he felt guilty because what would Red say if she knew he was ogling his best mate’s sister?

Ron came back into the room with the wine bottle and glasses on a tray. “Here we are. Iron Chef Weasley in there says don’t drink too much or you’ll ruin your appetite.”

Harry looked away, feeling himself blush and cursed at himself in his head. When he did glance back at Ginny, she had a smirk on her face that he didn't understand. He wasn't sure what was so amusing to her. He took a long drink of his wine, to help settle his nerves.

Hermione entered the room a moment later, with a few dishes in her hand. Ron helped her, and Harry sat down across from Ginny. Soon they were eating and passing the plates back and forth to each other.

"You outdid yourself, Hermione," Ginny was saying. "I love this glaze for the chicken. Did Mum teach you that?"

"No, this one is a Granger specialty. Ron still says, it's why he married me."

“I married you because you told me we had to or you were leaving me. I didn’t feel like breaking in a new woman.”

“Ron!”

Harry and Ginny both sniggered at the same time and then looked at each other. Ginny looked away first, a faint blush on her cheeks. Harry decided he liked it.

"So, Harry, Ginny tells me she's going to be working for one of your centers, in Dawlish, wasn’t it, Gin?” Hermione asked as they continued eating.

“Oh, that’s right, Ginny, why didn’t you tell me you had applied? I could have had Harry put in a good word for you,” Ron said, turning to his sister. Harry watched as she rolled her eyes at him.

“I wanted to get it on my own, thank you, Ron. And yeah, thanks, Harry. I spoke to Ian McDermott the other day, and he let slip you had final approval on all the new employees. Thank you for giving me a chance." Ginny nodded at him, her eyes staring at him intently.

Harry cursed Ian in his head. "Well, your CV was brilliant, so really, that's what did it. No good word from me was needed, Ron. Your sister has an impressive background. Ian was all set to hire you; going through me was just a courtesy.”

“Do you always look over the people who want to work in your centers?” Ginny asked him.

"Yeah, I do. I mean, I trust Ian's judgment, but I like to know who's going to be in the centers. They’re too important to me.”

“I know,” Ginny said, her voice taking on a soft, lilting quality that had Harry almost shivering in response, and not because there was a sudden draft in the room. He took a quick drink of his wine and turned his attention to Ron and Hermione.

“Well, I’m just glad you found something,” Ron was saying to his sister. “I was getting worried, Gin.”

"You just didn't want me to move in here," Ginny said, laughing.

“Well, no, not only. Not just.”

“Ron!” Hermione interrupted. “Don’t be rude. You know you would have taken her in in a second had it come to that. Honestly, why do you two do this? I’m glad you’re here, Harry. They’re usually much worse than this.”

Harry chuckled, and they continued talking. He was surprised by how talkative Ron's sister was. The previous two times he'd met her, she'd never spoken where he could really hear her or said all that much to him. He found himself laughing at her impression of Percy, and they all enjoyed her story about her previous landlady’s cat, who had somehow got stuck in the older woman’s attic. By the end of the meal, Harry felt considerably cheered and well-fed.

“This was nice,” Harry said as he and Ron sat out in the back garden. The women were in the kitchen talking, and every now and then he would hear Ginny's laughter float out across the air, doing strange things to his insides. The wine had gone straight to his head, he was pretty sure.

“Yeah, you looked like you needed a break when we ran into you at the shop.”

“Hopefully, I can get back into the routine of daily life, now that Remus is good. I really want to set up a time to meet Red. I think we’re ready.”

Ron didn’t say anything and then sighed. “Are you sure she’s it? I mean, are you sure you want to peruse her?”

Harry’s frowned. “Yeah, why?”

“I was just hoping you might find someone else to help take your mind off things.” Harry saw Ron’s eyes flick towards the kitchen window.

“You want me to date your sister?” Harry asked, feeling dumbfounded.

“No! Well, okay, yeah. I mean, she’s pretty, even I know that, but more importantly you two are a lot alike, really, when I think on it. But I saw you two tonight, I think there’s something there. She’s always been a big fan of yours, you know. She doesn’t think I knew about it, but she had a crush on you when she was younger. She modeled herself as the female version of you, I think. Plus, she had your bloody poster up in her wardrobe. One time I think I saw her kiss it, even…”

Harry felt as though his heart had stopped as Ron continued on. He felt as though someone had just thrown a bucket of ice water at him, and he gripped the stem of his wine glass. 

“Ron.”

“I mean, she was only twelve at the time, she doesn’t do that now or anything. Not that she’d…Harry?”

“Ron. What was your sister’s number when she played football?”

Ron frowned at the odd question and then scrunched his face up as though trying to recall. “Er, six, I think. Yeah, six. Because yours was seven.”

“Did she have a nickname when she was on the team?”

“Yeah, um, why are you suddenly interested in –“

“DID SHE HAVE A NICKNAME?” Harry said harshly, trying to keep his voice down, but failing.

“Red er…hah, Red, that’s funny considering that’s what you call your bird. Redflash, yeah, that was it. Redflash6. Because she moved pretty fast and was up and down that field like a blur.”

Harry stood up suddenly, the wine glass slipping out of his hand. It made an abrupt breaking noise as it hit the patio stone.

“Harry?” Ron was asking, sounding concerned. “Are you all right, mate?”

Harry glanced towards the kitchen and saw Hermione and Ginny laughing near the window, completely oblivious. As though feeling his gaze, Ginny turned to look out the window, brushing her hair out of her face. And suddenly, Harry knew. He knew it all. Why she’d kept her name from him, why she’d refused to meet him, at first. Why the first time he'd met her, she'd stayed away from her computer for days, making him worry.

Ginny Weasley had been right there.

Right there in front of him the whole time and he’d never seen her.

“I have to go, sorry, I just…I remembered something I have to get Remus from the chemist.” Harry turned and moved quickly before Ron could stop him. He was through the back door and walking through the house before the women in the kitchen could see him.

All Harry knew was that he had to get out of there – he couldn’t…he couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t face her. He wondered briefly if she'd been laughing at him the whole night. Trying to remind him of their conversations, the way her voice lifted, the way she made his body react with her shared glances, her secret smirks. The way she’d brushed her hair out of her face.

_I know who you are, Harry._

_I had a terrible crush on you when I was younger, Harry. I even had your poster in my wardrobe._

_Tell me a story, Harry. Just let me listen to you being…you._

_You’re wonderful, Harry, do you know that?_

Harry swore as he escaped away into the darkness of the street, his heart racing and his mind reeling.

o-o-o-o-o


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How does Harry handle his new knowledge? Not very well, apparently... Hopefully, Ron and Sirius can snap him out of it.

Chapter 7:

"Another one!" Harry grunted, his voice belligerent. The large man in front of him paused again, and Harry felt his anger open up within him. This was the third time Hagrid had tried to get him to stop drinking.

“Pour. Me. Another. Drink.”

Hagrid sighed and did as he asked, but not before flicking his eyes behind Harry. Without having to turn around, Harry knew who was there.

“Leave me alone, Sirius.” Harry grabbed the drink Hagrid had just poured for him — scotch, neat —and turned around, a snarl on his face. Harry was surprised by finding his uncle instead.

“Sirius thought it best that I come.”

Harry frowned at his uncle. “But how did you get here?”

"Dora brought me. She's in the car. Should I go get her? Do you need a nurse, Harry? You seem a bit wobbly. Not to mention rather disagreeable.”

Harry loudly snorted and turned back to face the bar. He threw back the scotch and let the glass hit the counter with a loud thud.

“Another one,” Harry said, but softer than before. He felt his uncle maneuver his chair around until he was on Harry’s side.

“Hagrid, if you would be so kind?” Remus asked the larger man, and Hagrid came around the bar to help him onto the stool. A moment later, Remus was sitting next to Harry. “And what are we having? Scotch? Just some water for me, Hagrid. Ta.”

Harry stared straight ahead, knowing what his uncle was up to and not caring. He’d come straight to the pub after Ron and Hermione’s, and he’d been drinking straight on since then.

_GinnyWeasleywasRedGinnyWeasleywasRedGinnyWeasleywasRedGinnyWeasleywasRed…_

The same four words kept repeating in Harry’s head until he thought he would go insane. The only thing that helped was the burn of the scotch as it traveled down his throat. But for some reason, everyone wanted to deny him even this respite. Harry didn’t miss the way Hagrid looked at Remus to make sure it was okay his serve him another one. Harry felt his frustration grow.

“I’m the one paying, so I’m the one who gets to say when I’ve had enough!” Harry yelled, throwing a wad of pounds on the counter.

“Harry James Potter, you will stop this. You will stop shouting, and you will stop treating your friends like this. We are not here to be yelled at, and we are not here to be abused by you. If you want to drink yourself into oblivion, be my guest, but you will not act out in this manner.”

Remus’s voice was soft, and yet the weight it carried was enough to make Harry wince. He closed his eyes, feeling instantly ashamed. When he opened his eyes again, Hagrid had shuffled off to the other side of the bar. He’d left the entire bottle of scotch in front of Harry. Remus was calmly sipping at his water, resting his head on his hand. He looked tired, to Harry, and he suddenly felt even more ashamed for his behavior.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, feeling miserable.

“Too right you are,” Remus agreed. He placed his water down on the table and grabbed the bottle Hagrid had left. He offered it to Harry, who shook his head. Maybe drinking more wasn’t what Harry needed right now.

“I found out who Red is,” Harry said, feeling desperate. “She’s been lying to me. Lying to me…when she said she wouldn’t! She was right there! The whole time! And I didn’t…she didn’t… oh, she must be having a laugh about it all!”

Remus didn’t say anything. Harry stared at the bottom of his glass, the color of the lights in the bar catching the reflections. He was so… _confused_. Why would Ginny do this to him? Why hadn’t she told him? Had she been laughing at him the whole time? Playing it up under the safe cover of her anonymity when she was ‘Red’ and then acting as if she couldn’t stand him when she was herself?

_Except that’s not exactly true, is it? She didn’t act like that tonight. You liked her tonight. And she liked you_ , a voice whispered in his head. Harry growled as he drank the rest of the alcohol. He grabbed the bottle and poured himself another glass and then drank that down, too. He looked at Remus.

“I’m so confused, Remus. I don’t understand anything.”

“I can tell you’re upset,” his uncle said, rubbing Harry’s back in a comforting gesture. “Why don’t you start at the beginning, and I’ll see if I can help you sort it out.”

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I just want to go home and sleep. I don't want to think anymore."

Remus gave him a calculating look. “All right, Harry, if that’s what you want.”

Harry nodded and then called to Hagrid. His friend lumbered over, looking warily at him.

“I’m sorry I was such a prat, Hagrid. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Reckon so, Harry. We all have days like this. Although I will say I was about ter get a touch unfriendly with you if you kept on like you ‘ere.”

Harry felt his skin heat. “I really am sorry.”

“Go on home ‘ith yer now. Come on, Remus, let me get yer settled back in yer chair here.”

Harry did feel a bit unsteady on his feet now, his head starting to pound. But with Hagrid’s help, he and Remus got through the pub in one piece. There was a slam of a car door, and Dora appeared in front of them. She looked him up and down.

“Cor, Harry, what happened? You never get this drunk.”

Harry didn’t say anything; he stumbled over to her car to help Remus. Dora waved him off. “No, don’t…I’ll do it. I don’t want you to drop him, no offense, Harry. But you look as unsteady as a seasick sailor.”

Once they were settled in the car, Dora turned to look at him. “Not to sound like a cow, but are you okay? If you feel like you’re going to be sick, we’ll just sit here until it passes.”

Harry covered his head with his arms, hiding his face. “I’m fine. I won’t get sick in your car, Dora. I promise.”

When they arrived home (Harry much closer to getting sick than even he would admit), Sirius greeted them at the door. He looked at Harry and then at Remus. He didn’t say a word as Harry pushed past him and headed up the stairs. He figured his uncle could clue them all in while he went to bed to die. Harry felt a heavy sort of feeling throughout his body and didn’t want to move for the next 24-48 hours, if possible. But he still clearly hadn't drunk enough because even as he collapsed on his bed and closed his eyes, it was Ginny Weasley’s smiling face that chased after him.

o-o-o-o-o

_Harry –_

_Is everything okay? I haven’t heard from you in a few days. It’s not your uncle again, is it? Did he have another issue? I tried calling you the other night, but it just rang and rang; it didn't even go to voicemail. I hope everything is all right. Even if you only write back to say hello, I’d be happy. Please, let me know? I’m worried about you, and I miss you._

_-Red_

_Harry –_

_It’s been almost two weeks now, and since you’re apparently ignoring all of my attempts to talk with you, I feel as though I have done something wrong. I’m sorry for whatever it was. I'm not going to beg you to reply to me, though – if you want to remain silent, be my guest. But until these letters get bounced back to me, I'm going to keep writing to you._

_I started my new job on Monday! I'm so happy with it. I think it's really going to be an excellent fit. My boss is a lovely woman, and she’s very motivated. I feel happy when I get off from work now, and I'd forgotten what that felt like. In a way, you are responsible for my sense of well being. In more ways than one. Even if you never talk to me again (for whatever reason), I want you to know that. I carry a little bit of you with me throughout the day, now, I think._

_It’s going to be summer soon, can you believe it? I remember you telling me that this is when your godfather gets the busiest before the Dog Show circuit kicks into full gear. Is that why you’ve been silent? You’re so busy with dogs and training and making sure your house is kept clean? ;)_

_I miss you, Harry. I miss your laugh and your way of making me feel as though I’m the most important person in the world. I honestly just miss you, Harry. Do you sometimes, maybe…perhaps…miss me?_

_-Red_

o-o-o-o-o

“Harry?”

Sirius’s voice broke him out of his mindless, staring out the window. He turned to look at his godfather, who was standing in the doorway. He came into the room when he saw he had Harry's attention.

“Er, Ron Weasley’s downstairs. Said he’s left about a half-a-dozen messages and wanted to check up on you. Do you want me to send him up? Or do you want to go down?”

Harry sighed at the hopeful sound in his godfather’s voice. “Send him up, I reckon.”

Sirius nodded and looked at him again. Harry could feel the question Sirius wanted to ask, settling in the air between them. But to his credit, his godfather merely left the room and headed back downstairs. He knew everyone was worried about him - Sirius, Remus, Dora, Ron, Hermione… _Red_. Oh yeah, she made sure she’d told him how worried she was in every letter. Every letter he promised to himself to ignore and yet somehow, he ended up reading them anyway. He was a glutton for punishment, apparently.

A few moments later, Ron Weasley was looking at him from the doorway. “Hiya, Harry. So this is where you’ve been hiding. Always the last place I look. Your actual bedroom. Imagine that.”

Harry gave his friend a half-hearted grin as Ron sat down at the desk. His friend’s eyes lingered on the computer, which Harry had thrown a cover over after Red's last letter. Harry supposed he was employing the out-of-sight-out-of-mind method to dealing with the constant messages she sent him, telling him about her day, how worried she was about him…

“So,” Ron said, turning back to look at him. “How’s it going? I like the uh, beard. That’s…different. Trying out a new look?”

Harry shrugged and didn’t say anything. He hadn’t shaved in a while. It was nice. His face was now…anonymous-feeling. He thought he’d heard Sirius refer to him as the “Wooly Mountain Man” at least once or twice, to Remus.

Ron sighed and then sat forward, looking serious. “Harry, what the fuck is wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Oh, okay, That answers that. Well, reckon I’ll be on my way then.”

When neither of them moved, Ron swore again and stood up. He paced in front of Harry for a few moments and then looked down at him. 

“I’ve never seen you like this, and I helped you with learning to walk again, and I've seen you pretty low. So again, Harry, what the fuck is wrong?"

“I’m fine.”

“Right. Your godfather is worried about you, your uncle is worried about you… I’m worried about you too, now that I’ve seen you. Hermione keeps telling me to invite you over, but I haven't told her you're not bothering to answer any of my messages."

“How’s your sister?” Harry heard himself ask. He felt as though his voice held a brittle, harsh quality. But it was as though he were far away, lost inside himself.

Ron stopped pacing again and looked confused. “What does Ginny have to do with this?”

Harry shrugged and didn’t say anything. He didn’t care how she was anyway. He already knew. She was keeping him very up to date with everything.

Ron sighed and sat back down. “Well, since this is the first subject that has gotten a response out of you, I suppose I should play along. Ginny’s fine. She loves that bloody job. I’ve never seen her so energized for work before. They’re already getting a lot of interest in the new center with the local teens. And she's trying to get a few of her old teammates to come to give lessons on various football techniques. And I'm going to help out too, do some training sessions and talk about being healthier.”

“Great,” Harry said half-heartedly, already feeling himself sinking again.

Ron's ears turned pink, and he ran a hand through his head. "Blimey, Harry. What in the hell happened? It's this woman you were talking to, isn't it? Did you finally meet her? Did it go terribly wrong? Did something happen? I wish you would open up, mate. I’m about ready to throttle you.”

"Everyone is," Sirius's voice came from the door, and both men looked over at him. He smiled apologetically at Ron. “Sorry for eavesdropping. But I was hoping your presence would loosen his lips.”

Harry didn’t say anything and looked away. He hadn’t said a word about what he had found out to anyone. Well, except when he’d been drunk.

"This isn't like you, Harry," Sirius said, joining them. "You brood sometimes, but you always snap out of it. This has gone on long enough.”

It had, hadn’t it? But still, Harry didn’t speak. He felt as though his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. How do you tell someone else that your heart has been torn to bits inside of you? How do you tell someone you feel betrayed? How could he tell his godfather he’d raised a sap?

“I found out who she is,” Harry finally muttered. “I…I think she's been hiding in plain sight. Getting off on the whole thing. It’s the only thing that makes sense." Harry paused, and the two men were silent, as though holding their breath. Harry continued, his own voice sounding too loud in the stillness. “Why would someone hide who they are? Why act one way in person and another way…” Harry let his voice trail off as he looked at Ron. He swallowed roughly. “Why would you hide who you are if you cared about someone? Why would you lie to them about it?”

Sirius and Ron looked at each, both apparently nonplussed. “Perhaps she was afraid of your reaction?” Ron said, sounding confused. "I mean, if you know her, obviously, you’ve never shown interest in her without the whole email thing before.”

“Yeah, maybe she was scared of how you would react once you knew? So…she’s someone you know, is she? Someone close?” Sirius asked, leaning against the door.

“Not close, but…” Harry sighed. “She could have been. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m utterly confused about the whole thing. I feel like I’m just…stuck in limbo, and I can’t…I can’t get her out of my mind, and I can’t seem to get past it. I just want to know why.”

“Well, you could ask her,” Sirius said. “Go for the direct approach.”

Ron nodded. “Hermione always tells me women are not as complicated as they seem and like a direct approach. But then again, she’s extremely logical 95% of the time. Some women might be a bit different about it. If this girl was hiding who she was, maybe she had her reasons.”

Sirius nodded. “You never know what people have gone through to make them who they are, Harry. Look at you, and how your parent's death affected you. It made you more cautious, not something I am always happy about, but…"

Ron interrupted. “I mean, you met Ginny for the first time when she was not her best, and then you met her later when she was more herself. She doesn’t warm to new people because of what happened with that Tom Riddle character, but she eventually got there, though, right, Harry?”

Harry frowned to himself as Red/Ginny’s words repeated themselves in his head. _I…I am scared of your reaction, that’s all. Because of reasons I can’t go into. God, I sound like a prat…When I was younger…I had a terrible crush on you…I can’t believe I just told you that…_

Harry felt as though the sun had suddenly appeared, as though it had been behind a cloud. For the first time, Harry really thought about what Ron had just said, the implication of his friend’s words truly sinking in. The act of thinking almost made Harry cringe - he had honestly not been making much of an effort with using his brain. Well, not for anything other than just existing. Harry had been wallowing, full stop. He suddenly felt self-conscious about how much of a git he’d been. He looked up to see Sirius grinning knowingly at him.

“Ron, you and I are going to get on just fine. I think Harry’s just decided to join the living again,” his godfather said, turning towards the other man.

Ron looked at Sirius, and then at Harry, his brow furrowed. “What did I do? I don’t get it?”

Sirius clasped the other man on the shoulder and nodded at Harry. “Go on, get showered, we’ll be downstairs.”

Harry smiled at his godfather – for the first time, truly feeling like himself again.

o-o-o-o-o

The new Sports Center was almost done, but for now, the extra offices at their center in Exeter were serving as headquarters. Ian had said it was crowded but working surprisingly well. One of his favorite employees, actually, one of his favorite people, Arabella Figg, was moving into managing the new center. Which meant she was technically Ginny’s new boss. But Harry already knew this. He also already knew the two were getting on like wildfire, judging from Red’s letters. She was still sending them to him; Harry had to admire her tenacity.

His visit to the offices was for business only, or so he told himself. Since he still hadn’t replied to any of Red’s letters, and he still hadn’t mentioned to Ron or Sirius or anyone else who Red was, it was a perfectly legitimate visit. Harry told himself once again that he was just letting it go. It didn’t matter, in the end. What had happened between him and Red was…over. Or at least, that is what Harry told himself every morning as his eyes glanced at his computer, or every night when he’d charge his mobile…

He pulled into the carpark and sat in the Jeep for a moment, seeing a few kids running the ball up and down the field next to the center. A few of the younger children were playing on the swings and roundabouts. Grabbing the papers next to him, he jumped out of the vehicle and made his way inside.

It was mid-morning and quiet in the center, currently. But Harry knew that later, once school was out, it would sound as though a party was going on. The Exeter Center had done extremely well and was reasonably popular with all the local teens. He was proud of that fact and couldn't help but smile to himself. Their impact on the community had been substantial, and he felt pride at what they had accomplished. Before opening, the area had had far more issues with violence, graffiti, and other problems. Now, most problems were down almost by half, and Harry knew it was because of the tireless effort of all the people he and Ian had selected to help run the center.

Harry was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize where he was going and was surprised when he ran into someone coming out one of the offices. He smiled when he saw who it was.

“Harry!” Arabella cried, grinning at him. She embraced him quickly and then, as she always did, pinched his cheeks. Harry was now, of course, tall enough to pull out of her grasp, but he never had the heart to do it. It had been a habit she'd started when he was a kid, and he couldn't deny it to her.

“Hello, Bell, how are you?”

“Splendid! Did Ian tell you? Mrs Tibbles has just had a new litter! I’m trying to get some of the new blood to take home a kitten once they’re able to leave their mum. You don’t want one do you?”

Harry laughed. Arabella’s love of all things feline was well-known and much discussed among other members of his staff, he knew. She often walked around with a massive photo album of all of her cats, making sure everyone had a look, at least once. Or twice. The long-standing photo history all cats named Mr and Mrs Tibbles was quite the saga.

"No, thank you, Bell, you know Sirius has a cat thing. He'd probably not be happy with me bringing home a kitten."

Bell sniffed at him. "I know you love your godfather, but a man preferring dogs to cats is just unnatural. I suppose you're here to see Ian. He's in the back with the others. Come on, I'll show you through. We're a bit close quarters.”

Harry followed her through, nodding at a few of the other regular employees. They reached the back office, and he could see what she meant about close quarters – they had somehow managed to squeeze in a few more desks into the room, along with four new people. Harry made a mental note to make sure the new building had more space.

Arabella introduced him to everyone. Harry tried not to smirk when she introduced him to the women first – she was always trying to find him a girl – even after he’d been with Cho, she’d still tried.

“This is Padma Patil, she’s our money expert, brilliant girl, brilliant girl, very quiet though, and this is Angelina Johnson, one of our new physical therapists. And this is Jason Cooley, our other physical therapist. And then this is Davin Scott, our new psychologist and…where is Weasley?” Bell paused, looking around as though Ginny was hiding.

“She’s gone with Ian to the training room. They’re taking inventory of what we can spare here and take with us to the new Center,” Angelina offered, smiling at Harry. The woman offered her hand to him. “Nice to meet you Mr Potter, I was a big fan, of course." Murmurs of agreement came from the rest of the staff, except for Padma, and he nodded at them.

"Thanks. I've gone over all your CV's, and I'm honored you lot are helping to make the new center be the best it can be, really. I know you’re all highly qualified and ready to get started. It hopefully won’t be too long now. The builders assure me it should be done by the end of the month, right on schedule.”

After talking a few more moments, Arabella grabbed Harry’s arm to take him to find Ian and Ginny. Before they could reach the training room, though, they both turned as they heard a voice calling for Mrs Figg.

“Sorry, there’s a phone call for you, Arabella,” Jason Cooley said, catching up with them. “It’s that distributor you’ve been trying to reach.”

"Oh, I better take this, Harry. The training room is down the hall to your right, if you recall."

Harry nodded as the two headed back to the office and went on ahead. He heard Ginny before he saw her, and he suddenly felt flushed. Her laugh was music to Harry’s ears. And for a moment, he closed his eyes, remembering how it felt to hear her laugh in his ear, to listen to her sigh and the way her voice dropped when she was feeling sexy… maybe he shouldn't have done this. Perhaps he wasn't ready. Perhaps he just wanted to march in there and demand that she answered his questions. Why had she done it? Had the whole thing been a game? Harry wasn’t angry at her anymore, but he did still wonder about her motivations.

“Harry?” Ian’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he blinked at his secretary.

“Hi, thought I’d drop by and see how things were going,” Harry said, as he handed Ian the papers he’d asked for.

“This is great! Everyone is here today, did Arabella already do the introductions?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I just met everyone. Nice bunch, it seems.”

Ian smiled. "Yeah, they are, if I do say so myself. I think the new center is going to be our best yet! Your last team member is in there if you want to say hello. I've got to go fax a few of these off right away. We’ll talk before you go?”

Harry agreed and stood outside the training room for a moment. The door had closed behind Ian, and he could just see Ginny's hair as she walked back and forth on the other side of the room through the small window. Taking a deep breath, Harry steadied himself. _You can do this. She’s just Ron’s sister. She doesn’t know that you know. Just…say hello and be perfunctory and get out of there._

Harry waited a moment, his eyes closed as he tried to picture how to say hello to her in the driest yet politest way possible. When he finally thought he had it, he opened the door, and his greeting died on his lips. In fact, all thoughts left him entirely. Ginny had bent down in front of a cupboard, on her hands and knees, her very shapely (how had he never noticed this before?) backside pointing right at him. Harry swallowed roughly and just watched her for a moment, forgetting to breathe.

“Ian?” Ginny called out, apparently thinking Harry was the other man. “Do you have anything long and thin? I dropped my pen, and it rolled under this cupboard. My dad will kill me; he put it together himself as a gift for getting this job.”

Harry strolled over and watched her for a moment, the reply he wanted to say just dying to come out. But in the end, he held back and glanced around. Over the by the door, there were a few long yardsticks, and he went to fetch one for her. He handed it down to her without saying anything, and Ginny continued talking to him as though he were Ian.

"My Dad is such a nut for mechanical things, and he was ever so proud of finding this old dip pen at a jumble sale. He did some of his magical jiggery-pokery and got this pen to be more like a fountain pen and have its own reservoir of…aha! Gotcha!" Ginny sat back, gripping the pen in her hands and looked up at him, a broad smile on her face. Harry noted that her face seemed to simultaneously drain of color and turn pink at the same time. She blinked up at him.

“Er, Harry? I…sorry, I thought you were Ian.”

"Obviously," Harry said, smirking. He offered her his hand, and after staring at him for a few more moments, she took it, and he lifted her up. Ginny fell forward, and Harry used his other hand to steady her. She stared at him, her mouth opening slightly. She looked out of breath for some reason, and Harry noticed she had more freckles across her nose.

Harry released her suddenly, and Ginny blinked at him as he moved away. “I came by to meet all the new people, you know, say ‘hi.' But I already know you, don't I?"

Ginny seemed to recover and nodded at him. “Of course. Even if it is only as Ron’s little sister.” She looked away from him and cleaned off her pen on her shirt. Harry nodded at it.

“Can I see?”

She held it out to him, not meeting his eyes, and didn't say anything. Harry studied the pen. She had been right, it was a rather nice, vintage dip pen, complete with a drawing of a quill along the side of it. It was red and gold, and while obviously used, he could tell that Mr Weasley had fixed it with love and care for his daughter. He watched her for a moment.

“Your dad is brilliant. I would have climbed under there for this pen, too. You should cherish it.”

Ginny smiled warmly as she took it back from him. “I do.” Her eyes finally met his. “How have you been, Harry? I…er, Ron said he hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve been fine. You?”

“Oh, you know, work’s been keeping me…busy. We’re all very excited to finally get into the new center.”

Harry looked around the training room. He finally brought his attention back to her and was surprised to see her watching him. Her cheeks seemed flushed, and Harry felt his stomach do that odd little drop it liked to do.

“I talked to Ron a few days ago, didn’t he mention it?”

Ginny shook her head. “No. Of course, why would he?” She paused, frowning. “Is your uncle okay? He didn’t have another…I mean, Ron said…”

“He’s fine. I wasn’t missing because of anything serious. I just needed some time to think about some stuff."

Ginny nodded as though she understood, but Harry could tell that she didn’t. “Oh, well. Um, I reckon I should get back to work.”

“I could help you,” Harry said impulsively. “Whatever you and Ian were doing. Something about doing an inventory?”

“Well, I suppose if the big boss wants to help the grunts do their jobs, who am I to say no?" Ginny asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. Harry couldn't help himself, he laughed. 

“I don’t think of myself as the big boss. And you guys are definitely not grunts.”

For the first time, Ginny smirked at him. “Good, then you won’t mind doing all the hard stuff while I call out the numbers to those boxes up there.” She pointed to what appeared to be a collection of dusty boxes that were perched on a series of shelves against the far wall.

“Er, well,” Harry pretended to look daunted. “I might get a bit executive on you and suggest you do it instead.”

"Too late," Ginny said, shaking her head at him. "You offered to help. And I'd rather watch you up there on that rickety ladder than the other way around."

Harry considered it as they walked towards the shelves. He shook the ladder, making a show out of testing its strength. Ginny watched him, amusement on her face. Harry grinned at her.

“All right, I’ll do it, but just don’t lose your concentration, Miss Weasley, or we’ll have to have a serious discussion about job performance.”

Harry didn’t mean to sound flirty, but he couldn’t help it. He enjoyed the way Ginny’s blush worked its way up along her neck to her face. She blinked rapidly and then grinned back at him. “Arabella loves me. So does Ian. I feel pretty secure.”

Harry chuckled and climbed up the later. Once he was to the first shelf, he looked down at her. “Ready when you are.”

They spent the next half an hour matching inventory numbers to boxes, with Harry pulling out the extra items and lowering them down to her. When they were finally finished, they were both dustier and sweatier than before they'd started. Ginny rechecked her list and nodded.

“Right, I think we have a fair bit we can actually use in Dawlish.” She glanced up at him, and Harry noticed she snorted and looked away, her eyes filling with mirth.

He frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ginny said, looking at her list again, but she bit her lip as though trying to hold back a smile.

Harry looked down at himself, not understand why he suddenly looked amusing to her. She shook her head and then reached out, her hand straying upwards into his hair. Harry held his breath as her fingers gently pushed his fringe back. Her brown eyes were full of affection as she looked at him. But she quickly stepped back, as though embarrassed and shook herself.

“Sorry, that was er, forward of me. It’s just your hair was sort of standing up.”

“It’s always standing up,” Harry said, feeling strangely exhilarated.

“I know,” Ginny said softly.

"Ginny, go out with me," Harry blurted out, blinking at her as he felt his skin heat. _Where in the hell had that come from?_ Her eyes widened as she looked at him. “Er, I mean, let’s go get drinks, after work, yeah? I…think I need to get to know the most mysterious member of the Weasley clan, at any rate.”

She seemed embarrassed and looked away, and Harry swore to himself in his head. What was he doing? He didn't want to go out with her. He'd decided he wasn't going to chase her, hadn’t he? _No, you said you’d wanted to figure out her game,_ a voice whispered in his head. Harry was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost didn’t hear her reply.

“Okay,” she said quietly, blushing. “I could handle a drink. Maybe a few of them.”

“Brilliant,” Harry breathed, his heart beating fast. “Do you know The Dragon’s Wake?”

“I think so. Ron’s mentioned it once or twice. I’ll see you there about six or so?”

Harry smiled. “Yeah, perfect. Six is always a good time for me.”

Ginny's cheeks blushed a deeper pink, but she met his look. “Good to know.”

Harry walked back to the shared office with her, and she smiled at him as she went to the desk she apparently shared with Padma Patil. Harry asked Arabella where Ian was and was told he was still in the front office. He said goodbye to everyone, making sure not to let his eyes linger on Ginny’s for too long and slipped away back down the hallway. Once he was there, he felt the huge grin he’d been trying to hold back break out on his face.

o-o-o-o-o

"I did it," Harry said as he came into the kitchen to find Remus and Sirius sitting at the table, papers spread out in front of them.

They both looked at him expectedly. “I asked out Red,” Harry said triumphantly. “What are you two doing?”

Sirius smiled at him. “Does this mean you’re finally going to tell us who she is? And we’re just going over some bank stuff for your estate.”

“What’s wrong with the estate?” Harry asked, frowning at them.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Remus said. “We were just discussing some things. Now, tell us about your girl.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to do it, I just sort of blurted it out there and she agreed.”

Sirius rolled his eyes at his godson. “Really? These are the types of details you’ve driven some bird crazy with over email and the phone? Honestly, Harry.”

“What?”

"Details, man! Did you actually blurt it out, or was there flirting? Smiles? Blushes? Things becoming more pronounced any place interesting?”

Remus laughed at Sirius and looked at Harry. “Don’t mind him. I thought you had decided not to pursue this woman? Isn’t that the pronouncement you’d made just the other week?”

Harry sighed. “I did. And I wasn’t. But today I saw her and…yes, Sirius, there were smiles and blushes and no, nothing growing any place interesting. It was the middle of the day! We're not sex fiends like you apparently are."

“I am not a sex fiend, I am a sex God. Get it right, Harry.” Sirius laughed. “Are you going to tell her you know?”

Harry frowned. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I suppose I should. But…I just want to get to know her, for real. Nothing in the way between us. I want to start new. Fresh.”

"That's honorable," Remus said, nodding. "But I think you should at least try to see why she felt it necessary to hide from you. Make sure you don’t have any further doubts about her intentions.”

Harry frowned, thinking about it. “We’re just meeting for drinks. I suppose I should make certain I can actually talk to her in person before I bring up…anything else.”

“Just be yourself,” Sirius said. “Who could resist you? You’re dead brilliant and clever and hilarious. She’ll be in your lap by the end of the night.”

Harry laughed despite himself. “I don’t need her to be in my lap at the end of the night, Sirius.”

“All right, she could be in front of your lap, whatever position makes you happiest, Harry. I’m not here to judge your preferences.”

Harry groaned. "Stop it. And besides, she doesn't know I know it was her so… I can't exactly go to the pub and sweep her off her feet, can I?" Harry paused, considering things. "Oh, bloody hell, I'm going to bugger this up, aren't I?"

Remus patted his arm. "Sirius was right, Harry. Just be yourself. You're pretty great, even if the two of us are completely biased. And she clearly already likes you.”

“Yeah, true. You’re right, I shouldn’t be nervous. Should I?”

Both men shook their heads at him, and Sirius clapped his hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Harry made himself some coffee and headed upstairs to get ready. He sat at his desk, staring at his computer. He hadn't checked it before going to the center, but he knew there was probably a letter from Red, waiting for him. He frowned. He had to stop referring to her as Red in his head. She was Ginny. But then again, maybe she wasn't. He wanted to know if the two identities were actually all that different, really. He hoped they weren’t. But still, she had kept things from him, which part of him understood, but the other part of him didn’t.

He turned on his computer and opened up his email. He counted how many letters she had sent him and was surprised by the amount. He hadn't realized it, but she'd basically been having a one-sided conversation with him for about a week. Ginny definitely was determined, he’d give her that.

_Harry-_

_Did I ever tell you about the time my brother first brought his girlfriend (now his wife) home? It was a terrible night. She's French and absolutely gorgeous, and I didn't really want to like her, I admit. She seemed flaky. And snobby. And just into him for his looks. Or his thrilling career. Honestly, I thought he could do better. My mum and I both thought she looked down on us for not being wealthier._

_But after months of them dating…my brother had an accident – on one of his digs, and we thought he was done for. He wasn’t, thankfully. But he got a horrible cut on his face (you can barely see it now if you don’t know where to look) and I thought to myself, well, that’ll throw Blondie right off him now. I am not proud of this moment, to be honest. But I admit it was how I felt at first._

_Except after the accident happened…it didn’t put her off him. At all. She stood by him, and even when he told her he might have a horrible scar on his no face, she said she didn't care. She told him she loved him for him, not the way he looked or for his exciting life. And I thought to myself, wow…people can really surprise you, sometimes. Love can really surprise you._

_I hope you’re well, Harry. I’m not going to be sending any more of these letters after this. I just…can't. I am giving up on you ever replying. I am not sure exactly what has happened or if I did something wrong, but I cannot hit my head against this door of silence you have erected in front of me. So this is me, giving up on you, Harry. I wish you nothing but happiness. You have been a dear friend, but I can no longer do this to myself. I hope you understand – or maybe I’m just kidding myself that you have even been reading these letters. But for what it is worth, this short time for us has meant the world to me._

_-Red-_

o-o-o-o-o


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ginny meet for drinks. There’s a moment in the sun. And Dora helps Harry sort out some inner anxieties.

Chapter 8:

Harry settled into the back section of the pub at about quarter to six that evening. Hagrid was off tonight and his chef, Norbert, was doing double duty as chef and bartender. But it was okay, the pub was slow during the week, something for which Harry was grateful. It meant that he and Red, no, _Ginny_ , could have some privacy. He ordered an ale from Norbert and a few starters off the menu that he thought she might like.

Harry was nervous again. More nervous than either Remus or Sirius knew. Because neither of them had read her letter, and they didn’t know how gutted Harry felt nor how worried he was that he had blown it by not reaching out to her. He hadn’t realized until she said she was no longer going to write him how much he would miss it.

But she had agreed to meet him, had she not? And that had been after she’d written her letter. Harry was confused and nervous and his stomach was doing that strange swooping sensation the more he thought about it and…

“Hi, Harry.” Her voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he looked up at Ginny, feeling his mouth go dry. She looked, quite simply, _amazing_.

She had chosen to wear a bold-print summer dress that was a soft blue and green. It was sleeveless as well, and, as Harry let his eyes travel downward, quiet slinky. It hugged her frame in all the right places and there was a long slit up one side that showed the tiniest flash of leg as she moved to sit down in front of him. Ginny had pulled her hair back – it was up and off her shoulders, showcasing the slender arch of her neck. Harry noticed that her earrings were tiny silver footballs. She regarded him with an amused look, but when she glanced away he noticed the slightly nervous gesture of her hand rubbing against the wood of the table, and he felt infinitely better inside to know that perhaps she was just as nervous as he was.

“Hi,” Harry said, smiling at her as Norbert brought over his drink. Harry nodded at Ginny to order for herself, and she grinned up at Norbert.

“I’ll have a Bramble,” Ginny said. “Minus the lemon slice, if you please.”

Norbert nodded and headed off again. Harry suddenly didn’t know what to say and spit out the first thing that came to mind.

“Er, what’s a Bramble?”

“Oh, it’s gin, lemon juice, sugar, crème du Mure, and blackberry liqueur with two blackberries on the side. It’s very fashionable,” Ginny said, flashing a smile at him.

“Sounds tasty, now I feel boring that I just ordered an ale,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. Norbert returned with Ginny’s cocktail and the first plate of the starters Harry had ordered, the pub’s version of Bubble and Squeak. “Sorry, I didn’t know what you’d like to eat and I tend to want to nibble when I get nervous.”

“Are you nervous?” Ginny asked, taking one of the small pieces of potato cake off the plate. She took a small bite and then after tasting it, plopped the whole thing in her mouth with delight. Harry couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

“Good, isn’t it?” he said, taking his own bite. Ginny nodded.

“It is. Where did you find this place? I like it. Very homey and comfortable.”

“A friend of the family owns it. I’ve been coming here since I was able to be allowed in pubs and probably before that, actually. Not sure Hagrid or my godfather cared for those types of rules when I was a kid.”

A slightly awkward silence descended over them then, and Harry realized they were both avoiding looking at each other. He thought desperately for something to say and couldn’t think of anything.

“So, umm…”

“So…”

The both started and then stopped, Ginny laughing nervously as she took another sip of her drink. She indicated that he should start.

“You’re probably wondering why I er, asked you to meet me,” Harry said.

Ginny tilted her head to the left. “It has crossed my mind, once or twice since it happened. I honestly didn’t think you liked me much.”

“Me? Not liking _you_? I thought you where the one who didn’t like me!”

“What gave you that idea?” Ginny said, looking puzzled.

Harry stared at her. “Well, the first time I visited your folks, you were sort of…well, rude, really.”

“Oh, that’s a fine thing to say to a girl,” Ginny said, looking put out. It took Harry a moment to realize that she was kidding. He rolled his eyes at her.

“Admit it though, you did act rather strangely that day.” Of course, now, in hindsight, Harry understood why she had acted that way but that didn’t mean he would let her off the hook that easily.

Ginny sobered. “You’re right. I was…not myself that day. It’s not every day a famous footballer comes to your parents house for dinner though, is it?”

Harry didn’t say anything as one of the waitresses brought over more food and another round of drinks for them. They both eyed the plate of Devils On Horseback and then looked at each other. Ginny licked her lips.

“That smells amazing.”

Harry nodded. “It does. I haven’t had this one yet. I don’t know if he’s done anything differently to it. Norbert always has something new he tries with the old favorites. You try it first.”

Ginny reached forward and plucked one of the tiny bacon rolls off the plate and dropped it unceremoniously into her mouth. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, and then smiled at Harry. She finished chewing and then nodded at him.

“Delicious. Try it for yourself. It’s perfect.”

Harry grabbed one and did as Ginny had – his mouth exploded into a such fantastic sensation of savory and sweet that he almost felt himself swoon. The bacon was perfectly crispy and the fruit inside, which he was pretty sure was fig, not the traditional prune, melted in his mouth. Ginny smiled at him as she took another one, eating it quickly.

“Can we just eat these the rest of the night?” she asked.

“Yes, except next time I’ll order two plates, one for me and one for you. Hey!” Harry said, laughing as she grabbed another one.

“You snooze, you lose, Potter,” she said mischievously, and Harry’s heart started beating double-time.

“Now see,” Harry said, laughing. “This you, I like.”

Ginny’s cheeks blushed and she sat back, looking momentarily sad for a moment. Harry felt awkward again.

“Er, that is, I mean, I like this you, too,” he said, feeling stupid.

Ginny shook her head at him. “Do you think…I mean, could we…start over? Could I just be Ginny Weasley, little sister of your best mate and new employee at your Sports Center that you have sort of…taken a shine to?”

Harry took a long drink of his ale and considered her words. “Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

“Have you taken a shine to me too in this scenario?”

Ginny blushed, and Harry realized how pretty it made her look. “I think the light is on, but I’m not exactly sure which direction I should focus it.”

“Well, let’s just call this a ‘getting to know’ you type of thing,” Harry said, shrugging. “Not a date. Take the pressure off.”

Ginny nodded in agreement, and they both took long sips of their drinks. Ginny drank a little bit more than Harry, as though trying to fill herself with its liquid courage. Harry could sympathize.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Harry heard himself ask, wondering if the ale was loosening his lips much faster than usual.

Ginny bit her lip and busied herself with taking another drink and eating more. Harry was dismayed to realize she really had almost eaten the whole starter herself. He caught Norbert’s eye and nodded at him to start another plate. When he turned his attention back to Ginny, she was frowning.

“Not really, no,” she said after a moment.

“You seem unsure,” Harry said, watching her.

“Well, I don’t know how much Ron told you, but my previous boyfriend cheated on me. It’s sort of…soured me on the whole idea, really.”

“He may have mentioned it,” Harry said.

Ginny’s eyes glowed indignant in the soft light of the pub. “I’m sure he did. At first, I thought he took it more personally than I did! It took all of my persuasion to convince Ron not to knock Dean into last year. Wanker.” Ginny paused. “Er, my ex, not my brother. Although he sometimes is as well.” A small smile graced her countenance before she looked away. When she looked back at Harry, she seemed less angry.

“And? How about you?” she asked, gazing at him.

“I don’t think Ron’s much of a wanker, really, just passionate.”

Ginny snorted. “No, I meant…are you? Seeing anyone?” She bit her lip, a strange light in her eyes as she waited for his answer. Harry rubbed his finger around the rim of his glass, trying to formulate what he wanted to say.

“I sort of was? But…it was…just an email thing. And a phone thing.” Harry looked away at first, and then couldn’t help himself, he looked back. He wanted to see her reaction.

Ginny’s face was a neutral mask of indifference. “Oh? That’s…interesting.”

Harry frowned and didn’t say anything. The conversation stalled then, and Harry didn’t know how to start it again. He hadn’t exactly known what he’d been meaning to accomplish by asking her about it anyway. To gage her reaction? To see if she would admit it?

“Yeah, actually it was. It is. But I haven’t spoken to her in awhile. Life got in the way, you know how it is.”

Ginny nodded and looked across the pub, her hand moving back and forth against the rim of table again. Harry wondered if she even knew she was doing it.

“Well, maybe I should go,” she said a moment later, not looking at him. Quite frankly, she looked miserable to Harry.

“Busy work day tomorrow?” Harry asked, trying to sound light-hearted, but probably failing. He didn’t want her to go while they still had this awkward unspoken thing between them.

Ginny smiled. “No, just early. Ian is going over to the site tomorrow, and wanted us new recruits to stake out which office we wanted. Although I think at this point, we’ll just be staking out empty spaces.”

“Actually, they’re doing quite well with the new building. It should be finished soon. Maybe I’ll show up there tomorrow, too.”

Ginny looked pleased for a moment before her features settled into her mask again. “You’ll make us nervous if you do. We’re all huge fans. Well, except Padma.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, I noticed that earlier. I reckon she’ll be the one I hang out with then.”

Ginny smiled, shaking her head. “You really hate calling attention to your previous life, don’t you?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s not who I am anymore. I mean, it was a part of me. It always will be. But…I think it’s good to move on and take on new challenges. Don’t you?”

Harry knew his voice sounded confronting but he couldn’t help it. She met his look with one of her own, and for a moment, Harry thought they understood each other completely.

“I do, Harry,” she said. “Life is too short to get hung up on maybes and could haves and should haves. I tend to believe that, usually. But sometimes life can throw you for loops, too. And sometimes we get bogged down in things we shouldn’t. I find myself being more cautious with my heart now. Although,” Ginny paused then, a slightly bitter laugh coming out of her mouth. “I’m still rather stupid with it.”

She avoided his eyes and took another drink. Harry didn’t know what to say. He realized he hadn’t really thought this idea of meeting for drinks through all that well. He was tempted to tell her that he knew she was Red, but something stopped him.

“But, you’re here,” Harry finally said, watching her. “You took a chance.”

Ginny’s skin turned pink as she smiled a bit wistfully at him. “Yeah, I…was curious, I suppose? You asked me so spontaneously and I answered in kind. Sometimes I can’t even explain myself to myself, Harry. I just go with what feels right.”

“And meeting me for drinks felt right?”

Ginny nodded. “It did. You’re funny and fairly interesting.”

Harry snorted despite himself. “Well, fairly interesting. High compliment, indeed.”

The waitress brought more food over, and Harry asked for some water. Ginny nodded and said she’d like one too. The both reached for more food and ate in silence for a bit. It wasn’t the awkward silence from before, and Harry was grateful for small miracles.

“So, this er, email friend of yours. Are you going to talk to her again? I mean, write her, I suppose.”

Harry pretended to think about his answer as she watched him. “I wasn’t going to, no, but I think…well, it doesn’t matter. I blew it. She sent me a letter today telling me she was giving up on me. I hadn’t been replying, you see. She got tired of my lack of response. I can’t blame her, really.”

Ginny frowned and her finger started playing with the edge of the silverware that still sat untouched at her elbow. “Maybe you could explain to her why you er, well, I mean, if you want. You could tell her why. Maybe she might appreciate that. I know I would. If I were, that is, writing someone, and they suddenly stopped communicating, I think I’d like to know why.”

“This is the strangest date I’ve ever been on,” Harry said, after a moment. “You’re telling me to contact another woman that I may or may not be interested in.”

Ginny smiled briefly. “Well, I thought we said it wasn’t really a date, date…just a ‘get to know you’ sort of thing. Actually, it’s not even that, it’s us eating starters and drinking and talking. I think you’re safe.”

“So you think she’ll respond, even after all of this time?”

Ginny shrugged, and he could tell she was trying for nonchalance. She gave him a wide smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You said you liked a challenge?”

“True,” Harry said. “I do. And she is definitely one of those.”

Ginny took another drink quickly, but Harry had noticed the blush spreading across her cheeks. She put her glass down and looked around the pub. “Is there a WC back here?”

Harry turned and indicated the hallway behind them. “It’s there past the poster of the Chinese Dragon. Gents to the right, Ladies to the left.”

“Thanks, I’ll just be a moment.”

Harry turned and watched her walk away, unable to help himself from enjoying the way she moved. He didn’t care what she had said, he knew she had dressed as though this were a date. And he had as well. Harry wondered if he were crazy to be contemplating this…whatever it was. Why wouldn’t she just tell him? Did he frighten her that much?

When Ginny returned, Harry had settled their tab and was sipping at his water. He didn’t feel drunk, thankfully, but still he wanted to stay hydrated. She looked as though she had combed her hair and reapplied her lipstick. Which had Harry wondering why.

“Look, Harry,” she began, and then stopped, giving him a searching look. “There is probably something I should confess, and this is quite…well, hopefully you think it’s funny. I mean, not terribly funny, but more isn’t this –“

“Harry! Ginny!”

Ron’s voice called out through the pub, and Harry saw him and Hermione making their way over to their booth. _Fuck_ , Harry thought to himself. He glanced at Ginny, and saw a similar expression on her face.

“Did you tell them you were coming here?” Harry asked her.

Her eyes flashed at his. “No! Trust me, I didn’t.” Ginny turned to face her brother and his wife, and Harry saw her manner change, a smile on her face.

“Hi, you two! I thought that was you. Fancy running into my best mate and my sister out for drinks and ooh, those look fantastic! Mind if I help myself?” Ron laughed as he sat down next to Harry, grabbing one of their leftover food items. Hermione looked at both Harry and Ginny, an apologetic smile on her face.

“Sorry, I tried to stop him from barging over here,” Hermione said, sitting down next to Ginny. She looked between them again. “Everything okay?”

“We’re fine, we were just about to call it a night, right Harry?” Ginny said, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Um, were we?”

“‘Course not,” Ron said, signaling for the waitress. “It’s early yet, and we just got here.”

Ginny pursed her lips at her brother and sat back against the booth, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. Harry could understand her irritation; he was sure she had been about to come clean about everything. He caught Ginny’s eyes, and she gave him a half-shrug. Harry supposed the moment had been broken and he could only chuckle as Ron ordered drinks and more food when the waitress returned. Ginny eventually grinned back at him, shaking her head as Ron launched into a story from work. Neither of them noticed that Hermione was watching them.

o-o-o-o-o

_Red-_

_What can I say except I’m sorry. You may think I have been blowing you off. I haven’t been. Well, okay, I will be honest and admit that maybe I was. Just a little. Suffice it to say I came across something that surprised me (i.e., made my world go topsy-turvy ) and I have been dealing with it ever since._

_But you did not deserve to be forgotten. I did read every letter you sent, just so you know. I was always here, reading._

_Please forgive me for not writing back. After reading your last letter I would completely understand if you never wanted to talk to me again. But there is a small part of me that is hoping you will. You strike me as being very compassionate, and here I am asking for just a little patience and a lot of mercy._

_-Harry_

o-o-o-o-o

The next morning Harry decided to head over to the construction site, stopping on his way to get coffee (and one very robust Earl Grey) for everyone. They were already there when he arrived, and the new hires looked sleepy and a bit bemused at finding themselves in the middle of what could only be described as orderly chaos.

Harry’s eyes found Ginny immediately – he marveled to himself over how much she just stood out to him now. Her hair was like fire in the morning light, and he was pleased to see she was wearing it down. It was much longer than he’d imagined, and he liked it.

He waved after Ian spotted him, and Harry greeted the rest of the staff. He noticed Arabella had declined to join them this morning, and he saved her coffee as a second cup for himself, for later. He handed out sugars and stirrers and nodded at his coffee carrier.

“Half of them have milk and half are black. Sorry, I didn’t know how everyone took it. Well, except for you, Ian. Espresso half-caf with light foam?”

Ian grinned at him. “Thank you, Harry! See, this is why having a silent boss is the best, you lot, he shows up out of the blue with coffee.”

Harry noticed Ginny wasn’t reaching for a cup, and smiled at her. He reached back into the Jeep and pulled out another to-go cup. He walked over to her.

“I’m not sure how long they steeped it, but the tea-lady assured me it was strong.”

Ginny took the cup from him and then gave him a strange look. It took Harry a moment to realize what he’d done, and he felt his stomach drop to his knees.

“How did you know I don’t drink coffee?” Ginny asked, an edge to her voice.

Harry was thankful he had his sunglasses on, and she couldn’t see the panic in his eyes. “Er, I think Ron mentioned it or…at dinner, maybe, when Hermione was talking about making coffee and you asked for tea? I paid attention, I guess.”

“Right,” Ginny said slowly, her eyes searching his face. Harry forced himself to relax and just breathe in and out for a few beats. After a moment, he saw her shrug to herself and take a small sip, her eyes falling shut with enjoyment. When she looked at him again, she smiled. “Thanks, it’s perfect.”

Just then, Ian called his name, and Harry gave her a brief grin before heading over to his secretary. _Bloody hell, that had been a close one,_ he thought, mentally kicking himself. For the rest of the time at the site, he felt Ginny glancing at him now and again, but Harry forced himself not to look in her direction. 

After the offices had been sorted, the meeting broke up, with Ian taking some of them back to the Exeter Center. A couple of the others, namely Ginny, Angelina Johnson, and Jason Cooley had the rest of the day off. Harry watched the other two head off to their cars while Ginny strolled a short distance away and sat down at the end of the sidewalk. Harry got back out of Sirius’s Jeep and walked over to her. He remembered then that Ron had said that Ginny didn’t have a car, and wondered briefly how she’d got to the site that morning.

“Need a lift?” he asked. Ginny blinked up at him, holding her hand above her head to block the sunlight.

“Ron’s supposed to be here, but I reckon he’s running late. He dropped me off this morning, but mentioned he had a new patient today. He might be a little late, so I was just going to wait and read.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a paperback.

“Anything good?” Harry asked sitting down next to her. Ginny shrugged.

“My Mum loaned it to me, she seems to think I need um, inspiration.”

Harry looked at the cover and then understood what she meant. It was called _Sinbound_ and featured a rather busty woman wrapped up into the arms of an even bustier male. Harry laughed. “I didn’t take you for the bodice ripping type, Ginny.”

She made a face. “I’m not usually. Well, okay, not at all, actually. But it’s got a fairly decent plot.”

“Really?” Harry asked, unable to hide his skepticism.

Ginny nodded and smiled, warming to her subject. “See, this young woman name Lucy has fallen for a member from the local constabulary, but she’s from a strict Catholic family, and he’s C of E and well, I guess it sounds silly, never mind.”

“No, go on,” Harry said, smiling at her. “Is that’s why it’s called Sinbound? She just can’t keep her hands off him?”

Ginny snorted at him. “Yeah, they keep running into each other and snogging in the most unusual places.”

“Really? Like on each other or like, on Farmer Joseph’s local tractor?”

Ginny laughed at loud and shook her head at him. “No, it’s not…tacky like that. It’s sort of sweet, really. He gets her all excited, and then he keeps pulling away at the last moment, telling her she needs to save herself for her future husband.”

“That doesn’t sound sweet, more like torture for the poor girl. And him.” Harry took the book from her and flipped through it. “So this isn’t really a bodice ripper, it just looks like one? This is what you want me to believe?”

“Well, it is. It’s just subtler than that cover would let you believe.”

Harry grinned as he opened up a random page and looked at her before reading a paragraph aloud.

_“Oh, Christopher, we can’t, we must stop this…stop this madness!”_

_“But Deidre, I need you, I am going crazy without you! Let me touch your silken skin, let me run my hands through your golden hair.”_

Harry raised his eyebrow at Ginny. “Oh, yeah. Real subtle.”

Ginny bumped him with her shoulder, as she laughed. “It was before that part. You could just give it back to me, you know. I’m not forcing you to read it.”

She reached for the book and Harry held it out of her grasp, teasing her. “I don’t know, I think I owe it to your brain cells to nip this in the bud right now. I don’t want you rotting your brain with this drivel. I am your employer, after all. I need you to be sharp.”

“Oh, I’m sharp, all right. And quicker than you.” Ginny moved so fast that Harry could barely keep the book in his hands. He laughed as she reached over him, trying to make him drop it. He shifted, to get out from under her, and she lost her balance, tumbling into him. Luckily, they fell into the grassy section behind them and not the concrete. Harry laughed as Ginny pushed her hair out her eyes and looked down at him, smirking.

“I win by default!” She raised her hands in mock triumph and grabbed the book from his fingers. Harry smiled up at her, feeling dizzy and more than a little pleased. The sun caught the highlights of her hair quite brilliantly, and he felt his heart skip a beat in response. Her eyes were crinkled with mirth as she settled on top of him. They both became aware of what that was doing to him a moment later.

Ginny’s face blushed beet red as she moved off of him, and Harry sat up, feeling awkward. He stared down at his body and swore at it in his head.

“Er, sorry,” he said, not looking at her.

“It’s fine. Don’t be embarrassed. I have brothers. I get it.”

Harry glanced at her. Her blush had faded to a slow burn and she was looking at her mobile with a frown.

“What is it?” Harry asked, concerned.

“Ron. He says he won’t be able to make it for another hour. Can I take you up on that offer for a ride?”

“Of course,” Harry said, standing up. He watched her brush herself off and felt his body still doing the thinking for him and looked away towards his Jeep. When he turned back around, she was looking at him expectantly.

“Follow me, milady, your chariot awaits,” Harry said, feeling silly. But she chuckled, and they walked towards the vehicle together.

“Is this yours?” Ginny asked as he opened the door for her. She climbed in as Harry walked around to the other side.

“It’s Sirius’s. He lets me use it a lot. Actually with the new center being built, I’ve been using it more than him. I should buy myself a car but…I’ve never really wanted one.”

Ginny nodded as she put her seatbelt on. “I can understand that. I’ve never wanted one either. But I think I may have to try and find one. A banger, most likely, since I don’t have enough money for a new one.”

Harry looked at her as he started the Jeep. “Well? Where’s your flat?”

“It’s off the High Street, about two over, on Chasers Lane. Newer type of flats, The Phoenix’s Roost.”

“Interesting name for a block of flats,” Harry said as he pulled out into traffic.

“Yeah,” Ginny said, laughing. “I liked it the minute I saw it in the advert. It has a gate and extra security to it, so I then I _really_ liked it. And of course, I like the idea of a phoenix and starting over.”

They chatted amicably on the short drive back to Godric’s Hollow and Harry was searching for a way to keep talking to her. Before too long he was pulling into the front drive of the flats. Ginny grabbed her purse and smiled at him.

“Thank you, Harry. I appreciate the ride. It was nice talking to you, too.”

“Do you think you might like talking to me over dinner later? Not as a date, of course, but you know, just two work colleagues getting together to discuss…construction. Or poor taste in literature, take your pick.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but shook her head. “I can’t tonight, but thanks. Next time?”

Harry felt disappointed but smiled anyway. “Okay. See you around, Ginny.”

She waved as she closed the door. He watched her walk up to the little guard house and show something to the person in the booth. He wondered why she had opted for such a secure place to live. He knew it had to be costing her a fair bit of coin to live there. He watched her until her head disappeared behind the buildings and then turned the Jeep around, heading for home.

o-o-o-o-o

Harry was sitting at the kitchen table, later than was probably healthy, eating a sandwich. Sirius had been out on another date, (Remus and Harry still didn’t know who this new woman was) and Remus and Dora were ensconced on the sitting room settee, watching something that had lots of explosions and gunfire. Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know, actually.

Sirius came into the kitchen, whistling happily. He looked as though he had dressed up, although Harry could tell he’d definitely had his shirt off at one point and maybe his trousers. His hair was definitely mussed in the back, as well. Harry opened his mouth to tease him and then didn’t. He thought he might get more information out of his godfather if he didn’t antagonize him.

“Good night?” Harry asked, watching as Sirius threw some of the very expensive decaf into the Moka Pot they kept on hand just for late nights. It was expensive because it was the best, according to Sirius, and if he was going to drink decaf then it was at least going to taste like a million pounds.

Sirius grinned at him. “You could say that.” He grabbed a cup and fiddled with the coffee stuff while Harry finished his sandwich. Sirius offered him some coffee, but Harry shook his head.

“Same woman again?” He finally asked his godfather, resting his chin on his hand. “What is this the fourth or the fifth date? That’s pretty significant for you.”

Sirius raised his eyebrow at him. “And how do you deduce it’s all been the same bird? Come on, impress me.”

Harry grinned. “Well, you tend to go out on the same days. Around the same time. Meaning she has a schedule she has to keep due to work or some other issue. And you’ve been in an extremely good mood all the time lately, which means you’ll probably getting some on a regular basis. Annnndddd….” Harry drew out the word, trying not to laugh at the expression on his godfather’s face. “You always smell of the same unique perfume. Ergo, same woman.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him and then laughed. “Not bad, Harry, not bad. Yes, she has a work schedule that we work around and yes, she does wear a lovely perfume. But as for the always being in a good mood part, I’m going to pretend not to be offended. I’m always in a good mood.”

Harry chuckled. “Okay, fair. I should have said you’re just in a much better mood. You where whistling when you came in for bloody sake!”

Sirius barked out a laugh and raised his glass in salut at Harry. “It’s been six dates, counting tonight, just so you know, godson.

“My mistake. Maths was never my strong suit. So…when do we get to meet her?”

“When are you going to tell us who Red is?”

Harry frowned and didn’t say anything. Sirius sighed and put his coffee down. “Things not progressing there? I wish you would talk to us.”

“I will, when there are things to say. We went out for drinks and it was awkward. And not because I told her I know. It was awkward for other reasons. I’m really confused about the whole thing. Right now we’re just trying to be friends, I think.”

“Being friends is good. But don’t let it go too long or she’ll think of you only as a friend and you’ll never get a chance to explore other options.”

“So, tell me about your mystery woman then, go on,” Harry said, wanting to deflect the attention off himself and his confusing love life.

“She’s nice. Actually, she’s spectacular. I met her at the dog show in Swindon; she’s a zoologist, can you believe it? She’s wildly clever. And funny. She can also drink me under the table, which you know always impresses me. And she’s fit, Harry. Oh, god, is she fit. You would not believe what this woman can do in bed.”

Harry covered his ears. “Okay, okay, I don’t need to hear all the details like you do, you know. I have semi-virginal ears at this point.”

Sirius snorted. “Sorry. I forget you have your mother’s sensibilities. Now, see James would have wanted to hear all the details. Sometimes we even compared notes.”

Harry shook his head at his godfather. “And I really don’t need to hear that either. But you didn’t answer my question. When are Remus and I going to meet this wonderfully athletic goddess of a woman? Why don’t you invite her over for dinner? Maybe she’ll enjoy your Taco in a Crumpet experiment. The rest of us can order in.”

“Hah!” Sirius said. “No one understand my food genius, that’s the real issue. But I will. I think I will have her over soon…I’ve told her about you and Remus, of course. But you know me, I like to keep things casual at first.”

Harry looked skeptically at Sirius. “At first? You like to keep things casual the whole relationship.”

“Okay, well, I’ll invite Zee over if you invite Red, how’s that?”

Harry made a face at his godfather. “I forgot how fair you don’t play.”

“I am older and wiser than you, Harry. Of course I don’t play fair.”

Sirius said goodnight and headed towards his bedroom. Harry sighed as his thoughts turned to Ginny. He wondered why she hadn’t been able to go out tonight. Remembering he hadn’t checked his email to see if Red had written back, he got up to head upstairs. The sitting room was now quiet and he assumed Dora and Remus had turned in for the night. Which is why he practically jumped out his skin when Dora called his name.

“Wotcher, Harry.”

Shaking his head, he looked and saw Dora sitting on the settee with Remus asleep next to her. “All right?” Harry asked.

Dora nods and slipped gently out from under Remus’s head, replacing her lap with one of the settee’s pillows. His uncle murmured softly and then was still. Dora smiled at Harry. “One of his new meds is making him a wee bit sleepy. He fell asleep right in the middle of the movie.”

“He fell asleep during all that ruckus?”

Dora chuckled. “Afraid so. He’ll feel dreadful about it later. Fancy a short walk?” She bent her head towards the door and Harry shrugged, joining her. The night was clear and crisp, and to Harry it looked as thought there were a billion stars in the sky.

“So, how goes Project Red?” Dora asked after a while.

“Sirius just tried to get information out of me, so you two can just compare notes,” Harry said firmly.

Dora chuckled. “I’m not trying to be a pest. I genuinely want to know. You’ve been through a lot these last few weeks, you know. I’m just checking on you.”

Harry felt sheepish. “Sorry. I tend to get used to Sirius giving me a hard time. Things are… well, I’ve asked her out, but then we decided to not call it a date, but just a getting to know you type of thing. And then I saw her today and…” Harry paused and shook his head. “I don’t know how to proceed with her. I want to tell her I know but another part of me is afraid to for some reason.”

“It’s like Schrodinger’s Cat.” Dora chuckled again.

Harry glanced at her. She saw the confusion on his face and offered an explanation. “Schrodinger was a scientist who was trying to solve what he saw as a problem with certain interpretations of quantum mechanics and their application to every day objects.”

“I understood every word in that sentence and yet I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry said after a moment. Dora laughed.

“It’s like this…he said if you have a cat and something that can kill the cat and you put both of them in a box and seal it, you don’t know if you have a dead cat or one that is alive until you re-open the box. So until you do open that box, your cat is both alive and dead at the same time. It’s a paradox.”

“Am I putting Red in a box?” Harry asked, thinking he understood what she meant but not quite sure.

“You’re putting your relationship in a box. On one hand you have this great connection on-line, and it’s everything you want it to be and now since you know who she is, you want it to go beyond that. But you still haven’t told her you know, so you’re keeping the two entities – the two Reds – existing in the same place and you’ve sealed them both up, afraid of losing one for the other.”

“So…you think the reason I haven’t confronted her yet is because I still want her to be Red and not…who she actually is?”Harry asked after a moment as they turned a corner.

“What do you think?” Dora asked, smiling at him.

Harry grimaced. “I think you just added to my inner angst about this whole bloody thing.”

Dora giggled and wrapped her arm around his. “Oh, Harry. You have the best possible parts of your uncle and godfather in you. You are thoughtful and contemplative like Remus and yet also so…”

“Oblivious?” Harry asked as they came full circle, the house coming into view again.

“Well, no, that is your word. I was going to say single-minded. Like Sirius can be. You take after him more than you know. Although I reckon he doesn’t even see it. He always sees your father in you.”

They paused in front of the house as Dora rested against the front gate, giving him a considering look.

“What you need to really think about is this – is the risk of telling Red everything eventually lead to a place where you can be happy, do you think? Or is not telling her just a way for you to avoid the whole thing – a relationship, having a person you care about in your life? Could this girl be the one? Do you see a future with her or are you just…as your godfather would say, are you just looking for a good time? I think you already know the answer, but for one reason or another, you’re afraid to let it out of the box.”

Harry sighed. Some of what Dora said made sense to him. Other parts, not so much. He looked at her. “So what do I do next, Dora? You’re a woman, tell me.”

Dora laughed. “Oh, no way, kid. Not until you figure out yourself first. I owe it to women everywhere to make sure you have your head in the game first. And on the right field before I give you any sort of feminine help. It’s the Women’s Code of Honor. No bloke will be told before his time.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said as they entered the house again. Remus was still asleep on the settee, although he had now started to snore. Dora shook her head affectionately at him.

“Help me wake him up and get him to bed, Harry.”

They managed to get his uncle up and into the mechanical chair lift so Dora could tuck him into bed. Harry glanced at his computer as his entered his room and decided not to bother with it for once. He got ready for bed quickly and lay down, putting his hands behind his head, staring out the small patch of his window he could see from his position. He was too tired to think and his eyes drifted closed before he knew it.

o-o-o-o-o


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ginny finally have that talk. What will happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter and this part of the story comes to an end. The next chapter is pretty long and things get... steamy. I'm not sure any of you will complain, though. ;) There will be a sequel, because another plot bunny came to me that I thought needed to be developed but in a separate fic, since this one is all about getting these two cinnamon buns together. Many thanks again to Narukoibito for her beta and various others who have held my hand during this experience.

_Harry –_

_I wasn’t going to reply to your letter. I keep asking myself why I seem to return to this form of communication – it’s so unlike me to waffle in-between two states. I am relatively forthright and make decisions relatively easy and stick to them. But with you…aye, there's the rub, as they say._

_A few years back, I became the victim of…well, let’s just say, I befriended someone who I thought was different than they were. There was nothing romantic between us. He turned dark before anything like that could happen. But he became obsessed with me and wouldn’t leave me alone. At first, it was almost sweet – little notes left on my door or at work. Then they became more insistent when he couldn’t see me or when I said I was busy. He would call me at all hours. I had to have my phone number changed twice, as well as move out of a flat I loved because he would break in and go through my things. Eventually, this led to him getting arrested, but I know he had done it many times before he got caught._

_There is something entirely unsettling and nerve-wracking about feeling as though you have been burgled in your own home – where nothing is missing, and nothing is really out of place, and yet – there is a feeling. A feeling that someone has been there. Little things, like photographs turned the wrong way, clothes left out that I thought I had put away, the scent of something in the air that wasn’t there before…_

_My family, thankfully, did not think I was mental and helped me immensely. But the damage had been done to my sense of security. Even my sense of self-worth. Was it something I did to make him unhinged? Had I smiled a bit too openly? Had I flirted too much? Had I told him too much of myself without realizing it? You know how it is when you first meet someone – there is that rush, that sense of possibilities. I soon realized that I didn’t feel that way about him and told him – but he was already in love with me, or so he said. We found out later he had been following me for weeks before inserting himself in my life._

_Intellectually speaking, I know I did nothing wrong. He was deranged from the start. He had done this to other women, apparently. I was lucky that my family stood by me and believed me and helped me catch him. Some other women were not so fortunate. But oh, how it made me cautious, Harry. So cautious. I became a different person for a while. I tell you this because you have to understand why sometimes it seems as though my confidence leaves me. I second guess myself more than I ever did before. I generally try not to, and when I do feel like that, I force myself to push through it. Because every time I shy away from what life is offering me because of him, I feel as though he has won, somehow. And I refuse to let that happen._

_We should meet, Harry. Someplace where we can just talk. So I can explain things more, if you want, or if you don’t want to. I leave the ball entirely on your side. Just promise not to be too angry with me when we do meet again. I never meant for it to get this complicated. But I hope one day soon we can both look back at this and laugh. Even if it is just as friends._

_-Red-_

Harry sighed and re-read her letter again. It had been a week, and he had only seen Ginny once after taking her home from work. It had only been for a brief moment when he’d run into her and Hermione, shopping. She’d looked pleased to see him, and even a little sad they couldn't talk long, but since then, nothing. And Harry couldn't very well keep popping up at the Sports Center on false premises just to run into her. Especially not after what she had just shared with him. He really didn’t want to be that _guy_.

He’d toyed with calling her and asking her to drinks again, but something had held him back. His talk with Dora had done nothing to ease his mind – in fact, it had only worried him more. Harry didn’t want to finally meet Red – Ginny – and have them have a dead cat on their hands. He didn’t think they would, judging from their interactions. They had the potential to be highly compatible when not both feeling awkward or embarrassed or stressed out. So Harry figured for that five minutes out of every day when it appeared the both of them had their heads on right, it would be absolute bliss.

If Ginny, as Red, was willing to finally meet, then he reckoned she was ready. Harry knew she was worried about him being angry at her for hiding her identity. But now he wondered if she would be mad at _him_ for not telling her he had known for weeks.

“Ahem,” Sirius’s voice startled him, and Harry looked at his doorway to find his godfather observing him. "All right there, Harry? You had a frown on your face, and that little cleft between your eyebrows was starting to grow wings."

Harry shook his head as Sirius came into the room to sit down on his bed. He suddenly wanted to know what his godfather thought he should do. There was no one's judgment he trusted more than Sirius’s or Remus’s. And he had been stupid not letting them know absolutely everything.

“Here, sit here and read,” Harry said, getting up from the chair. He leaned over and pulled up all of Red’s letters and looked at his godfather. “I need your advice, but before you give it to me, you need to know it all. Read these, and I’ll fill in the rest.”

Sirius watched him for a moment. “You’re sure?”

Harry nodded. “I’ve been an idiot keeping everything to myself. Sit here and read, and get to know her, and maybe you’ll start to understand. I’ll go make some coffee.”

“This is private stuff, kid. Will she be angry that you showed me?” Sirius asked as Harry paused in the doorway.

“I don’t think so, Sirius. One of the best things about her is that she gets me. She’ll understand.”

Harry left him to it and made his way downstairs to start the coffee. It might be a full pot kind of conversation after Sirius was done.

o-o-o-o-o

“So, it’s been Ron’s sister this whole time?” Sirius asked as they sat at the kitchen table.

Harry nodded. “Yep. I was so angry when I found out. Well, you saw what happened to me. Sorry again for that. I'm not much of an adult sometimes, it seems.

Sirius waved his hand as though pushing aside what Harry had just said. “And Ron doesn’t know?”

Harry frowned. “I don’t think so. Which is funny because he indicated to me he wanted Ginny and I to…well, get to know each other. He said we’d be good together. Won’t he be chuffed when he finds out?”

“And she doesn’t know that you know it’s her? Really?”

“I don’t think so? I mean, maybe? No, I don’t think she does. Or at least, she doesn’t want to admit to herself that she does.” As soon as Harry said it, he knew it was true. He’d been careful about not mentioning stuff to Ginny that she’d told him as Red, but he was sure he had fouled up somewhere, about something. Remembering the bit he’d forgotten with the tea, maybe Ginny _did_ already know. Or maybe not. Even at the end of this, Harry was fairly sure he’d never understand women.

“So you’ve been trying to get to know her as Ginny, haven’t you?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah. It seemed the…best thing to do. I realized I liked Red too much to give up on her, and if Red was Ginny, somewhere inside, then I wanted to bring her out.”

Sirius sighed. “You’re going to have to go easy on her, Harry. She sounds like she’s been knocked about a fair bit by other blokes. The stalker stuff alone is creepy as fuck. I don’t think you should keep trying to run into her. I mean, I get it, what you were doing, but she’s probably developed an extra sensitivity to stuff like that.”

“I know,” Harry said. “That’s why I want your advice. Now that you have all the information, what do you think I should do? Should I meet her like she wants and never tell her I knew?”

Sirius shook his head. “No, I think she’d be able to tell. She’s expecting you to get angry with her and no offense, godson, but you are not that good an actor. No, you two really need to just…come clean with each other and honestly, just…talk.”

“That sounds painful,” Harry admitted, sighing. “And tedious. But necessary.”

“You already knew the answer. You just wanted me to confirm it,” Sirius said, giving him a knowing look.

“Yeah, you’re right, as usual.”

“If only I could have you put that on a tee-shirt that I could pass out to people who doubt me.”

Harry shook his head. “Seems a lot of work to go through for something a person can only wear once a year.”

Sirius nodded in agreement and then sharply looked at him. “Hah, hah, hilarious.”

Harry washed out their coffee cups as Sirius decided to go to work for a few hours. Once his godfather was gone, he wandered back upstairs, looking at his computer. He tried to think of a place where he and Ginny could meet. Thinking about her flat and where it was located, he remembered there was a coffee shop nearby that he’d visited once and rather liked. It would probably be empty in the evening, and they could meet there. _And you wouldn’t have far to go if she invited your back to her place_ , a voice whispered in his head.

“Shut it, you,” Harry said out loud.

Opening up his email, he jotted off a quick note to Red for them to meet the following day, around 6. It had been a good time for them previously. He could only hope his luck stayed with him.

o-o-o-o-o

“Harry?”

He looked up as he was leaving the town library, new mystery books in hand, and saw Hermione waving at him. He smiled and stopped walking so she could catch up with him.

“I thought that was you! How are you?”

"Good, and you? Ron invited me for dinner, but I have plans, sorry."

Hermione shifted her rather large book bag to her other shoulder and smiled at him. “It’s fine, I just wanted to have a little get together like we had before. You know, you, me, Ron... _Ginny_.”

Hermione’s voice was so casual that Harry had to bite back a laugh. “Subtle, Hermione. You’re worse than Ron.”

She huffed and nudged him with her elbow. “Ron doesn’t know what I know, so there is that.”

Harry stopped walking and looked at her. “And what do you think you know?”

“How’s your email relationship going, Harry? Ron said you hadn’t mentioned her in a while.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Hermione. “We had a bit of a misunderstanding.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow. “Oh? Pity. It’s funny, Ginny mentioned something happening to her, too. Hmm. How coincidental. Also, how coincidental that you and Ginny both have plans for tonight. Plans for something that is making her nervous and you a bit…disgruntled.”

Harry didn’t say anything at first and kept walking towards Sirius’s Jeep. “Do you need a lift, Hermione? Or do you want to let that imagination of yours lead you home?”

"See? Very tetchy," Hermione said, looking at him. "I'll walk, actually. I have to stop at the shops for some milk. Just… be nice to her. I mean, I know I don’t have to really tell you that, but…she’s sort of vulnerable about you. And I’ve never quite seen her this…way about a bloke before. So if you are going to let her down, just…do it properly.”

Harry slowly blinked at her. “I’m not planning on…that is…I really like her, Hermione.”

Hermione’s face filled with a wide grin. “Brilliant, Harry! Also, I totally knew it!”

Harry looked at her in confusion. “What?”

“I suspected, but you just confirmed it as fact. I didn't know Ginny was your email friend until just now. She hasn't said a word, really. But I can tell she's hyper-nervous about something. So my point still stands. Just remember how many brothers she has, right?”

Harry felt shocked and then grinned ruefully at his friend. "Ron is right, you're bloody scary sometimes.”

“Too right you both are. Cheers, Harry, and later, tell Ginny I said hello?”

Harry laughed despite himself and watched her walk away, her bushy hair bouncing with a bit of an attitude, it appeared to him. He only had a few more hours to go, and then, hopefully, they could put all the subterfuge and other people figuring it out behind them.

o-o-o-o-o

“You ready?” Sirius asked him, watching him try to comb his hair. Harry scowled at his reflection and met his godfather’s eyes in the mirror.

“No, but…there’s nothing else for it, right?”

“You could call her, tell her you changed your mind, Harry.”

Harry frowned to himself and then gave up on his hair as he threw his comb onto the counter. He ruffled his hand through it in hopelessness. If it was going to be difficult and not lay flat, then at least he could muss it himself. _Besides, she likes the way it stands up_ , he thought with a smile.

“That. Right there, whatever you were thinking, hold on to that and greet her with that smile. Her heart will melt.”

Harry shook his head at his godfather. “You’re odd, do you know that?”

“I just know what women like, and that affable, yet, oh, gosh, oh darn smile you just had on your face is bound to get to her heart.”

“I was thinking about her and how she actually likes my hair standing up, if you must know,” Harry said, grabbing his wallet and his mobile.

Sirius grabbed his arm in mock seriousness. “Marry this girl, Harry. _Marry her_.”

Harry chuckled. “Would you stop?”

Sirius grinned at him. “Just trying to put you at ease. Now go out there and win her heart.”

“I’ll just settle for us being on speaking terms after all of it.”

“You could shoot for that. Or you could score a brace.”

Harry grinned. “Two goals in one game? You do know how to motivate me, Sirius.”

“Just doing my part. Call me later if you need anything, okay? And if I don’t hear from you and you don’t come home, I’ll just assume you’ve decided to play on.”

Harry hugged his godfather and made his way out into the night, his stomach full of nerves. It was a short drive to the coffee shop, and Harry went back and forth over wanting to be there before Ginny or after. He was already 20 minutes early, but he’d brought a book he could read if he decided not to go in right away. He drove by Merlin’s Cup, trying to see if she’d made it there yet, and didn’t notice her fiery flash of red hair anywhere.

Deciding he’d much rather go into the shop after she’d arrived, Harry parked in the back and proceeded to open his book, even though he wasn't really concentrating on what he was reading at all. He kept mindlessly flicking the little drink holder the Jeep had in the center console, the plastic clicking sound it made oddly comforting. When it was five minutes before 6, Harry gave up on his book and glanced at his reflection one more time in the rearview mirror, sighing.

Well, it was now or never.

Harry headed around to the front of the building, and as he had thought, it wasn't very full. He spotted Ginny right away – she was sitting off to the side, looking out the window, a cup of tea already in front of her. He saw her look at her watch and frown. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

Her eyes found his immediately, an astonished sort of wonder in her expression, as though she had half-expected for him not to show. Harry offered her a smile as he made his way over to her. He stopped just in front of her table, and they looked at each other for what felt like an eternity to Harry. Ginny eventually licked her lips and nodded to the seat in front of her.

After the waitress came over and got his order, Harry cleared his throat. Ginny shook her head at him, a fierce look on her face suddenly.

“You knew?” she asked, one delicate eyebrow arching upwards.

Harry nodded, giving her what he hoped had been that friendly smile his godfather had mentioned. When her look didn’t soften, he swallowed roughly.

"I knew. For a while now."

Ginny barked out a short, harsh laugh. “I should have known.”

“I only just figured it out. A few weeks back, at Ron and Hermione’s. He, er, mentioned you used to keep a poster of me up in your wardrobe. And then I asked him what your team number was when you played, and he mentioned your nickname.”

Ginny’s shoulders slumped slightly. She looked at Harry in disbelief. “Ron knew about that? And he never said anything to me or teased me about it?”

“Well, to be fair, it’s not something I’m sure you’d go around telling someone.” Harry offered. The waitress brought his coffee over and winked at him. Ginny didn’t notice.

“I’m just impressed with his restraint in not teasing me about it, that’s all. That’s why you stopped answering my emails, isn’t it?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. And I am officially sorry about that. Really. I didn’t know how to process it all. I thought maybe you were having a laugh at my expense or…you had lied, and you _were_ a groupie. I reckon a part of me was mad, too.”

“You thought I’d lied to you,” Ginny said, matter-of-fact.

“Yes. But you never did, you just…”

"I omitted certain facts to hide the truth," Ginny said, her voice sounding wistful. “It’s almost as bad, to be fair, Harry. I don’t blame you for being mad. I was prepared to have you yell at me tonight. To hear you rant and rave at me for being so deceitful. But I should have known. When you started asking me out for drinks and dinner and showing up places…I think I knew. But I thought I was so clever.”

Ginny looked angry then, not at him but herself, and he reached out his hand to comfort her almost automatically. She looked down at his hand over hers, and he thought she was going to pull away for a moment. She looked at him, searching his face for something that he didn’t understand.

“I tried to tell you, Harry. So many times. When we started writing all the time, and it got more serious between us and…after…the phone.” Ginny paused, a delightful blush working its way up across her neck and face. Harry impulsively squeezed her hand. 

“The phone was my favorite part,” he murmured. Ginny shook her head at him. Harry clarified his comment. “I mean, getting to know you better, not the…sex stuff. Although that was pretty fantastic.”

They each looked away and back at the same time, and Harry knew his blush was matching hers.

"When we met for drinks, I was confused – I thought you were interested in me without knowing, and I was sort of thrilled, really, but then the conversation was so awkward, and I knew if I kept seeing you, I had to tell you. I couldn't…not tell you. Being with you made me want to blurt it out all the time. And yet I couldn’t seem to.”

Harry understood what she meant perfectly. “I know what you mean. I kept thinking I would tell you or try to get you to tell me, but…something always came up. Or your brother showed up."

Ginny smiled. “Yeah. He does that. They all do that. The idiots. I love them, but if they knew I had feelings for you, Harry, they would never let me live it down. Not to mention they would skewer you six weeks to Sunday. Or maybe not, they do like their football.”

"They're protective of you, Ginny. It's understandable. And thank you for telling me about what happened before. I can't believe you had to live through that. I wasn’t even in your life yet, and even I want to go find the bloke and punch him. So I kind of get it.”

"It wasn't a good time. But…he's behind me. In the past. I try not to think of it, but I also recognize that to an outsider, some of my more quirky reactions to things might make more sense if they knew.”

Silence fell between them then, and Ginny finished her tea, while he sipped at his coffee. Harry recognized her nervous habit from before as she ran her fingers against the grain of the table, back and forth. Harry decided to just go for it; he was tired of tiptoeing around the issue.

“So…do you then?” Harry asked, watching her. She frowned at him, not understanding his question. “Have feelings for me, because…you know, I have this girl I’ve been writing, and she’s really great, Ginny, and I can’t lie, I really want to meet her and really get to know her for real. She’s great, you’d really like her – she’s funny, clever and she writes great letters. She always makes me think. And that’s not an easy job, really.”

Ginny blinked at him and then smiled as she caught on to his meaning. "Oh? So if I don't pan out, you're going on to her next? Is that it?"

“I might,” Harry said, shrugging as he looked around the café. There was a man in the back staring at them. When Harry met his eyes, he went back to the book on the table in front of him.

“Do you think she might make an appearance tonight?” he finally asked.

Ginny bit her lip, her eyes alight with mischief. “Perhaps. What do you call her, this girl you’ve been writing?”

Harry brought his eyes back to hers and waited a beat. He felt his heart beating faster in his chest, and when he spoke, he knew his voice was lower on purpose. “I call her Red. She seems to like it.”

Ginny blushed, and it was an altogether different sort of blush that Harry couldn’t wait to explore. It made something in his stomach tighten, and there was a different sort of anxiety in him now. Somehow the evening’s apprehension had turned to anticipation.

“She might be around,” Ginny murmured, looking away. “I’ll see what I can do to coax her out. Do you want to go back to my flat so we can talk…more privately? Red’s awfully shy, you see.”

“Are you sure?”

Ginny mock squinted at him briefly as though making up her mind. Harry felt like laughing out loud at the sudden burst of joy in his heart. 

“I suppose you drove?” she asked, standing up. She put money down on the table for their drinks and nodded towards the door.

“Should I keep the Jeep here or park at your place?”

“Well, the flat came with a parking space I never get to use, you might as well enjoy it.”

It was a short drive to the Phoenix’s Roost, and she told him where to park. Ginny lived on the second floor, and as she went up the stairs in front of him, Harry really tried not to stare at her backside. He tried. It wasn't his fault he didn't succeed. He was pretty sure she’d worn those particular jeans on purpose because they made her body look amazing.

Ginny smirked at him as she turned around, and he immediately brought his eyes up to hers. Harry felt his skin heat. He didn’t want her to think he was only after one thing, after all. “Er, sorry.”

“For what? Ogling? Or getting caught?”

"Er, both?" Harry asked, running his hand through his hair. Ginny's laughter trilled through the evening air, making him shiver in anticipation again.

"Well, that's honest. Come on in, Harry." She opened the door, and he entered her flat, warming to it almost immediately. It had a lived-in quality, even though he knew she had just recently moved in. There was no real design style to it except every piece seemed to have been picked with maximum comfort in mind. Her settee was short and had big, plush pillows on either end. A TV sat in front of it, as well as the latest PlayStation he was pleased to see. The chairs, next to the bookcase and fireplace, were a different style and color from the settee, and he could very well picture her curled up like a cat in them on some rainy day. The sitting room gave way to an open kitchen plan, just a small unit with a hob and microwave. Off to the side were two doors, which Harry assumed were the bedroom and loo.

Ginny had paintings and pictures up on the wall, as well as newspaper articles, a few of them about him. She blushed rather prettily when she saw him looking at them.

“Well, I did say I was a fan.”

He nodded and then noticed underneath the articles was a desk, which sat her computer. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Is this the famous computer where all the magic happened?”

Ginny snorted. "Yes. Now, how about a real drink? I don't have any single-malt, but I do have some of my brothers’ homemade ale.”

"Sounds brilliant," Harry said as she went into the kitchen. He sat down on the settee, and she joined him a moment later, handing him a bottle.

They both took a drink, and then silence descended on them again. Ginny was pulling at the label around her beer (a picture of Fred and George as brewmasters), and looking at anything but him. For his part, Harry didn’t exactly know what to say either. All they could hear was the ticking sound of the clock on her kitchen wall. Harry’s nerves made a slight return.

Ginny sighed and sat back against the arm of the settee. “Why is this still so hard?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“We should be full of things to say,” Ginny said, sounding despondent. “Do you think we just feel like we know everything now?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I’m fairly sure I haven’t even begun to crack the enigma that is Ginny Weasley, let alone Red.”

“I wish Red were here now,” Ginny said after a moment, sounding sad. “She’s bolder than me, by far.”

“What can I do to help her come out?” Harry asked. He half-smiled at her in jest. “Want me to call you on the phone?”

Ginny shook her head and gave him a look. She took a long drink of her beer and then looked at him, her eyes half-lowered. “Close your eyes, Harry.”

“Er, why?”

“Trust me.”

“Okay,” he said, doing as she’d asked. A moment later, he felt the settee shift as she moved closer to him.

“Hi, Harry. No, don’t open them,” Ginny said quickly as he was about to look at her. Harry frowned.

“Er, right. Hi.”

“Who am I?”

“You’re Ginny…”

"No, who am I?" she asked, her voice taking on that sultry quality he knew so well. He felt himself swallow roughly.

“Hi, Red.”

Ginny sighed, and it was…full of so many things that Harry wanted to discover.

“I’ve missed you,” she murmured, closer now. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Harry said, feeling as though a cat was purring in his chest.

“Have you? Tell me… tell me after you realized Red was me, were you disappointed? You can be honest with me, Harry. I…won’t mind. At least, not too much.”

Harry frowned but kept his eyes closed. “No, I wasn’t disappointed. Are you kidding? Even before I knew you were Red, I think I kind of fancied you. The first time I saw you, I thought you were pretty, the second time, I thought you were gorgeous. And fit. You were wearing that skirt, and your legs looked amazing, Ginny. In fact, I felt guilty later thinking of you like that when I was writing to her.”

He suddenly smelled that fantastic floral scent of hers and knew she was closer than he’d thought.

When she spoke next, it was a whisper, right beside his ear, and he shivered.

“You were so adorable when I knocked you on your arse, Harry, I never got to tell you that. I feel as though I have you at a disadvantage, though. I've known it was you all this time, and you only got to put a face with the voice a little while ago. I’ve had all these pictures in my fantasies, Harry. Thinking of you, talking to you…doing things with you…”

Harry moaned. “Can I please see you now?”

Ginny didn't answer him, but he felt her weight leave the settee for a moment. He could tell she had dimmed the lights in the room, and when she returned, she sat much closer to him. He felt her hands on his shoulders, and then they were in his hair.

“Open your eyes, Harry. Open those amazing green eyes of yours, and see the real me.”

Harry opened his eyes slowly, to find her sitting right in front of him, the only light on in the room directly behind her, causing her hair to glow like a fire beginning to burn. Her brown eyes were blazing at his, her lips between her teeth. And without thinking, without really planning it and without worrying about it, Harry kissed her.

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted – maybe they had been kissing forever, or perhaps for half an hour, but all he knew when they finally broke apart was that he was _home_. Ginny moved against him, as they'd fallen back against the settee, and a smile filled her face. 

“Hi,” she said, sounding shy again.

“Hi, Ginny.”

Her smile grew, and she tugged on the back of his hair with her fingers. Harry rested his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.

“Suddenly I don’t feel the need to talk anymore,” she whispered, and Harry chuckled.

“No, all I want to do is kiss you again, is that okay?”

“I’d be more upset if you didn’t, to be honest.”

Harry grinned and then moved his mouth down to hers again. He moved his hand up her back until it was lost in her sweet-smelling, unbelievably soft hair. Ginny hummed in appreciation as he messaged the back of her neck. His other hand had a mind of its own as it moved further downward until it was resting on her bum. Ginny used the leverage of her feet against the settee to cause friction between their two bodies, and Harry felt himself respond.

“Ugnh,” Harry said as they broke apart, twisting and moving upwards against her. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Ginny chuckled. “Just making sure that time at the new center wasn’t a fluke.”

“Minx,” Harry said, tracing his finger around her jaw. “God, you’re so beautiful, Ginny.”

“And you’re so handsome, my speccy-git.” She tapped her finger on his forehead and smiled. She brought her mouth closer to his and kissed him sweetly. Their bodies ground against each other’s and Harry tried to think of football stats or anything that would help him from exploding right there against her leg. When her mouth moved its way from his mouth to his ear he swore, and then flipped them over so that he was on top of her.

“Are you teasing me?”

“Do you like it?”

“What do you think?”

Ginny's eyes traveled down his body, and she smiled up at him, a predatory look in her eye. "I think you like it a great deal. But what are we going to do about it?"

Harry lowered himself down and used his mouth against her skin, teasing her as she had done to him, pleased by the half-whimper that escaped her mouth. “I could take you right against this couch and make you scream. Although I will say, it will be quick and probably rather hard. I don’t have much patience tonight for some reason.”

Ginny moaned and pulled his mouth to hers again, kissing him even more fiercely than before. She rested her head against his. “As much as it pains me to say this, maybe we should wait.”

Harry closed his eyes, trying to control his breathing. He knew she was right. As much as they both wanted to take things further, perhaps it was still too soon.

Their breathing, loud and haggard filled her tiny flat, and it took them both a long while to break apart. Harry finally sat back and moved slightly away from her. Ginny eventually scooted further away, resting against the back of the settee.

“You lied to me, Harry,” Ginny finally said, narrowing her eyes at him. Harry frowned.

“When?”

“When you told me that you were bullocks with women. I have now had two very intense reactions that beg to differ with you.”

Harry smiled at her. “Maybe I’m just bullocks with everyone but you. Did you ever think of that?”

Ginny grinned. “Stop trying to get me to sleep with you tonight. You’ll turn my head, honestly.”

“I would hope your head is already turned.”

“Fair point. But…oh god, come here." Ginny moved before he could react, and she was in his arms again, kissing him intensely.

When they broke apart finally, Harry stared up at her, feeling dazed. “What was that for? And how can I do it again to make you keep snogging me like that?”

Ginny giggled and sat back. “You’re just awfully adorable, that’s all.”

“Explain to me again why we’re not…shagging right now?”

“I think we should get to know each other as Harry and Ginny, don’t you?”

Harry nodded. “Right, you’re right. I knew there was a reason. I just had forgotten. Or something. Well, what should we do now? I don’t feel like going home just yet.”

“Feel like getting your arse kicked at football?”

Harry frowned. “Er, you wanna play right here in your sitting room?”

Ginny laughed and turned on a few more lights as she got up. She turned on the television and then grabbed the PlayStation controllers. She handed one to him as well as his long-forgotten ale. “We’ll play the FIFA 14, and I'll kick your arse, Potter."

Harry grinned. “You think so?”

“Oh, I know so,” Ginny said, tossing her hair back behind her shoulder. “And I’ll even let you play yourself in the game just so it's fair."

“Oh, you have yourself a deal, Weasley.”

“Winner gets a kiss," she said, winking at him as the on-screen graphics started. Harry raised his eyebrow at her. 

"That hardly seems worthy of the effort, really. I mean, I can just lean over at any time and do this." Harry captured her mouth with his, and it was sometime later when Ginny finally pushed him away, her cheeks flushed red.

“You didn’t let me finish. Winner gets a kiss, someplace interesting." She made her voice sound silky and flirty, and Harry laughed.

“All right, but now I’m not sure I actually want to win. It sounds as though we both technically win in this scenario.”

“I could opt to have you kiss my feet, Harry.”

Harry looked down at her trainer-clad feet and made a face. Ginny pushed at him, laughing.

"Don't worry, they're clean, Potter.”

The music for the game started, and Harry turned his attention to the television. He caught sight of the determined look on her face and knew he was probably going to get clobbered. But it was okay, some losses were worth it.

o-o-o-o-o


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Ginny are finally together. In every way. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: And so here we are, the penultimate chapter of consummation. ;) Many thanks to all who have helped with this baby - from the hand holding and the cheerleading, everyone over at the Ginny Lover’s Discord has been amazing. Special shout out to Narukoibito for her beta assist, as well as to Bumlewis for her constant demand for new chapters, sometimes even before I had them finished! And thank you, dear reader, for following Harry and Ginny along this journey. This chapter is hefty, and I hope it does not disappoint. There will be an epilogue that hopefully paves way for the sequel. I guess I’m not done with these blasted Muggles, yet. ;)

Chapter 10:

There was a healthy round of applause as Harry finished speaking; it was the end of June, and the newest Sports Center had opened in Dawlish. After only a slight delay, the construction crew had done the impossible and got the Center opened and ready for business. This was the official ‘for the press’ opening Ian had insisted they have to help get the word out about their newest endeavor. Harry didn’t mind the actual opening, but hated having to give a speech. He always tried to make it short and sweet. And he always made sure they had an open bar and free food to keep people from asking him too many questions.

His eyes caught a flash of red in his peripheral vision, and he turned his head to watch Ginny moving smoothly through the crowd. She, along with the other employees, was handing out pamphlets and information packets to the press and other interested parties. As though feeling his eyes on her, Ginny looked toward the small stage they’d erected, and he saw her smile grow wider. She gave a surreptitious little wave with her hand as she reached up to put her hair behind her ear. He couldn’t help the way his heart beat faster or the way he suddenly wanted to be alone with her. With the Center getting ready to open, they'd had very little time to delve into their budding relationship, but from just the short weeks they’d spent together, Harry was happier than he had ever been in his life.

“The press will wonder why you’ve gone all dreamy-eyed, Harry, if you don’t watch it,” his godfather’s voice said in his ear, and Harry turned to grin at Sirius.

"The press is too busy getting their free drinks on," Harry said, nodding at the group of sportswriters and other media types that had already started to wander towards the large white tent at the back of the Center.

Sirius grinned. “Good speech. Ginny help you with that?”

Harry grinned as they walked off the stage. “She did. How could you tell?”

“Your joke about the falling footballs was a little too full of…innuendo. I must say, I enjoy her influence on you.”

Harry laughed and saw Ron and Hermione heading towards them. Sirius and Ron shook hands as they met, and Harry introduced Sirius to Hermione. Harry had to bite back a laugh as Sirius kissed Hermione’s hand and turned on the Black charm. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry.

“He does realize she’s married, right? To me?”

“It never stops him, Ron. Just go with it.”

Hermione giggled, and then to Harry’s surprise she blushed. Sirius winked at Harry and asked what they wanted to drink.

"I'll brave the thirsty hoards, so my godson doesn't have to accidentally speak to one of them,” his godfather offered. “Hermione, would you like to assist me?”

“Oh, um, yes, I'd love too," Hermione said breathlessly. Harry saw Ron frown and tugged on his best friend’s arm.

“Just go with it, Ron. He’s doing it to wind you up a bit.”

Sirius winked again, and the two headed off. Ron shook his head at Harry.

“Hermione never reacts to blokes like that. I have half a mind to tell your godfather where to go. But I won’t, because you’re right. Think he’s testing me?”

“Hmm?” Harry said absently. He had caught sight of Ginny again. He hadn’t had time to appreciate her outfit before – a lovely strapless, summer dress, that was yellow with tiny, purple flowers. It tucked in at the waist and showed off all of her rather lovely attributes. Attributes that Harry knew he needed to spend more time getting to know and soon.

They were taking it slow, as they had both agreed. Most nights they either hung out at her flat (Harry always made sure to leave before things got too far) or had dinner at Harry’s place (Sirius had started inviting Ginny over for dinner more and more). They talked while playing board games or joined Remus and Dora for movie night sometimes. It was nice, just getting to know her. They had only told his household and Ron (since Hermione already knew) about the two of them seeing each other. But Harry knew the time was coming for when it would be necessary to tell _all_ of the Weasleys. He hoped they would approve. Ron seemed to think he was worrying about nothing, which made Harry relax, but still…she had _so_ many brothers. And they were all so… _tall_.

“Earth to Harry?” Ron was saying, waving his hand in front of his face. Harry turned his attention back to his friend, feeling a blush heat his skin.

“Boy, do you have it bad. You know, if you’d just listened to me at the start, you two could have saved yourself a lot of hassle.”

Harry grinned at his friend. “How many times do I have to say that you were right, Ron? You were unbelievably, completely, and utterly right. Your sister and I make a brilliant match. I bow to your wisdom in all things.”

Ron chuckled and clapped him on the back. “I will never get tired of hearing you say that. But still, you don’t need to look like a love-sick puppy all the time, do you? She is still my sister.”

“Yes, I am, and I’ll quite frankly tell you to shut up, brother. I like his lovesick face the best, I think.”

Ginny had come up behind them and wrapped her arm around Harry’s shoulder, momentarily blocking Ron from seeing what she was doing. Harry saw the brief flash of her smile before her lips were on his, and he sighed into her kiss. She pulled back after a moment and used her finger to wipe off the lipstick she’d left.

“Can’t have that, or everyone will want to know who you’re snogging,” she murmured.

“Sod everyone,” Harry said, trying to pull her in closer. “I’ll just say your name is Red.”

“Oi! Right here, Harry. And keep your hands where I can see them, Ginny,” Ron said, sounding exasperated. “Also, here come the drinks.”

Harry saw Sirius and Hermione returning with a tray full of beverages. Ginny linked her hand with his momentarily and then smiled. “I reckon I should get back to work. See you later at the flat? I’ll cook. I think we should eat in tonight. If you catch my drift.”

Harry felt a shiver at the sound of promise in her voice. What Ginny said was innocent enough, but…he loved the devilish look in her eyes. They hadn’t shagged yet, but they were close, he knew it. He nodded dumbly as he thought about it, and she snorted as she tussled his hair briefly. She waved to Sirius and Hermione and headed back towards the tent and the crowd. Harry knew Ian had them doing something with the press – showcasing their expertise or something – but he suddenly wished the whole event was over. He wanted to be with his girlfriend. Naked. And alone together. He shook himself as Sirius gave him a knowing look, but had wisely chosen not to tease him. Only Sirius knew the two of them had waited. Harry was sure Ron probably thought they were shagging like bunnies or something. Or maybe Ron tried not to think of it at all, actually.

Harry sighed and looked at his watch. Just a few more hours. He had a feeling that their ‘taking it slow’ mantra was about to change. Harry realized he didn’t even feel nervous, and he marveled at the concept. He felt the familiar swooping motion in his stomach at the idea of being with Ginny. He couldn’t wait.

o-o-o-o-o

“Heading over to Ginny’s tonight, Harry?” His uncle asked as he came into the kitchen. Harry nodded as he made a bee-line for the coffee maker. He figured a little afternoon pick-me up wouldn’t hurt.

“It’s a big night, isn’t it?” Sirius said, coming in after Harry. “I saw that look she gave you earlier.”

Harry tried to make his face a mask of neutral innocence but knew he’d failed when Sirius snickered.

“Okay, here’s your chance, godson. You have two very capable bachelors in front of you, with loads of experience between them at pleasing a woman. Ask your questions.”

Remus shook his head at Sirius. “Ignore him, Harry. But…if there are any questions you have, please feel free to ask them.”

Harry grimaced at them. “You two gave me the talk ages ago, thank you. And I have had sex before, you know. Honestly.”

“Yeah, but maybe you should have a refresher course,” Sirius said, settling in at the table.

“A refresher course? Has sex changed? It’s only been…” Harry paused and counted in his head how long it had been for him, exactly. Minus talking about sex and having a wank with Ginny on the phone…Harry frowned. Maybe he _should_ take them up on their offer.

“Oh, there he goes. His brain is on high alert. Okay, Moony, you go first. Tell him about that thing you do to Dora that makes her grunt and moan really loudly.”

Harry put his hands over his ears. “Sirius! I don’t need to know specifics! And…besides…” Harry paused as he watched his uncle calmly raised an eyebrow at his friend. "I've never heard Dora grunt. Thank God."

"That's because your bedroom is across the hall, and you sleep like the dead.”

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed three cups, one for each of them. As soon as they were all settled, Harry looked at his family. "Okay, I don't need technique advice, thank you, but…all-around advice, yeah?”

Sirius rubbed his hands together in glee and nodded.

His uncle smiled at him. “I am going to assume you and Ginny are at least comfortable with each other by now?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, we’ve er, been getting closer. Loads of snogging, and hands, and things…not completely undressed, but, you know...a few shirts might have gone astray.”

“No oral?” Sirius asked, and Harry’s skin heated as he wondered why he was even sitting there. _Oh, yeah, he wanted to make sure Ginny, and he had a fantastic first time. Right._

"She, er, that is, one time she did me, when it got too...um, intense, but I haven’t had the pleasure of doing her yet,” Harry said. It was still a sore point of his, to be honest. He'd been more than willing, but Ginny always managed to distract him with something else.

"Does she have a hang-up about it?" Sirius asked as he took a drink of his coffee.

“I don’t think so, but maybe. She hasn’t actually said. But I should probably find out, shouldn’t I?”

His uncle shrugged. “It could be she doesn’t like it, some women don’t.”

Sirius snorted into his coffee cup. "Not many I've met, but then again, they had the pleasure of being with me, so of course they loved it.”

Harry shook his head. “Let’s get back on track here?”

“Don’t rush anything, Harry. Find out what she likes, how she likes to be touched. She’ll tell you or let you know, hopefully. Try to pay attention to things, like how she breathes or the sounds she makes. It’ll be better the more you two talk to each other,” his uncle said, kindly.

“Yeah, communication is key,” Sirius said, nodding his head. “But then again, just grabbing her and going for it can be fun, too. That's how it was with Zee and me our first time."

Zee was Sirius’s new lady friend. He refused to acknowledge they were actually dating, insisting it was just shagging with benefits, but Harry had the feeling that Sirius really liked her. He wondered how long it would be before Sirius actually introduced her to everyone.

“From what I can see, you and Ginny have great chemistry, so just go for it. Don’t let any anxieties or nerves get in the way,” Sirius was saying, looking earnest for a change. “I know you want it to be fantastic the first time, but sometimes it isn’t. Just take the time to know each other. I mean, I know that's why you two waited, so you know each other better, but you have to take time to know each other physically, too. Also, go have a wank.”

Harry blinked at his godfather. “Er, what?”

“Have a wank. It’ll relax you and make it so you don’t explode before she’s even got her kit off.”

Harry looked at his uncle in disbelief, but Remus appeared to be agreeing with his godfather.

“It will take the edge off, perhaps?” His uncle offered, his mouth twitching in amusement.

Harry just looked at them both, feeling discombobulated. Sirius smiled kindly at him.

“Harry, what happened the first time you slept with Cho?”

“Um, er, well…” Harry stopped and thought about it. “Oh my god, you two are right. Why did you two never let me in on this before?”

"You didn't exactly tell us you were going to sleep with Cho if you remember. You do like to keep things to yourself sometimes, much to my chagrin,” Sirius said, shrugging.

“But I mean, I was 17, I just thought, this is what happens…but…afterward, it was easier the second time, I mean, lasting longer. Wow." Harry felt as though he had just learned the most significant secret the world had never told him. 

Sirius got up and clapped him on the back. “I love you, Harry. Never change. Remus? You want to go out for some air?”

Harry shook his head but was thankful for his godfather’s less than subtle way of giving him some privacy. He headed up to his bedroom and decided a shower was in order. A nice long one.

o-o-o-o-o

“Come in, Harry,” Ginny’s voice called out as he made his way up the stairs to her flat. Her door was open, and he could smell what could only be described as an amazing amalgamation of some of his favorite scents. He closed the door behind him, and Ginny waved from the kitchen. He put the stuff she’d asked for on the counter and took a deep breath.

“That smells incredible, what are we having?”

“French onion soup a la Ginny. My own personal recipe, mind you, not my Mum’s, and a nice hearty salad and for afters…” Ginny paused dramatically and then lifted a cover off of a large plate. “Treacle Tart from me to you, Harry.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said, smiling. He lowered his face down to the plate that held the tart and took a deep breath. “Oh, god, Ginny, this smells fantastic.”

She grinned and then put the cover back over it. “For later, Harry. Did you bring the coffee?”

“Is the sky blue?” Harry asked, reaching over to the bag and pulling out a small container of his favorite beans. “Want me to get it all set now? We can just turn it on later.”

Ginny nodded. “The soup’s almost ready. I thought we could have some wine with the meal first.”

“I do like the way your mind works,” Harry said, smiling. He got busy making the coffee while Ginny finished putting the salad together. They worked in companionable silence for a moment, and Ginny turned to look at him.

“Should I be worried that you haven’t kissed me hello yet?" she asked, sounding playful. 

Harry smiled and finished pouring water into the coffee maker. He moved quickly to her side and lowered his mouth to hers. After a wonderful passing of many minutes, or maybe it was for many sunlit days, Ginny pulled away first, looking flushed.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hi, Ginny.”

They grinned widely at each other, and probably would have continued to do so indefinitely if the timer hadn’t decided to go off. Ginny smirked and blushed, shaking her head. “Soup’s done.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said again, watching her. He suddenly didn’t feel all that hungry and watched as she scooted past him, taking the salad to the table. His eyes lingered on her backside, and he swallowed loudly.

“We’re eating _first_ ,” Ginny said, laughing at him. "In the cupboard next to you, there are two large soup bowls; think you can get it together enough to serve us something?”

Harry chuckled and did as she asked. He carried the bowls over to the table, and Ginny grabbed the wine. She poured him a glass and then herself. They both started putting the salad on their plates.

“How did the rest of your day go?” Harry asked.

“Fine. Ian eventually let us out of his sight. I went to the shops, lingered in the shower,” Ginny paused, raising her eyebrow at him as his fork fell onto his plate with a clatter. “And then started making dinner. Which is why we are eating. I slaved for this food, Harry Potter, and you’d better enjoy it.”

“I’m sure it’s fantastic,” Harry murmured, his mind still thinking about her in the shower. He absentmindedly put a spoonful of the soup into his mouth and then blinked over at her. The sweet taste of the onion and the savory broth filled his senses, almost making him want to swoon.

“This is the best french onion soup I have ever had.”

Ginny looked proud and grinned. “Great! I was actually worried because you said you liked a good french onion and I didn’t want to disappoint you. Also, I figured it wouldn’t be so bad later if we _both_ had onion breath.” She wagged her eyebrows at him, and Harry laughed.

“I also brought a toothbrush,” Harry admitted, feeling his skin heat. “I mean, you know, in case I…”

“Fall asleep all by your lonesome on the settee?”

"Yeah, something like that," Harry said chuckling. “You know I am all about dental hygiene, Ginny.”

“Hmm, yes, I think you mentioned that. _Never_. But it’s good to know for future reference.”

Ginny took a drink of her wine and looked at him over the top of her glass. Harry smiled unabashedly at her and kept eating. They soon finished, and Ginny offered to pack up the rest of the soup for him to take back to Sirius and Remus.

“Maybe I’ll just have it for breakfast,” Harry said as they sat on the settee.

“French onion soup for breakfast, Harry? Really?”

He chuckled and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her onto his lap. The sweet scent of her floral hair hit him, and he sighed as he nuzzled his nose against her neck.

“Don’t you want your coffee and dessert?” Ginny said a little while later, sounding breathless. By now, Harry had figured out how to kiss her precisely right.

“It’ll keep,” Harry said, letting his hand slowly move under her tee-shirt. Her skin was cool to the touch as she moved closer to him. His hand migrated up even higher, knowing she had an extra sensitive spot along her side.

Ginny sighed happily and started kissing his neck. “Or maybe you think _I’m_ your dessert tonight.”

“Hmm, maybe,” Harry said, loving the little sighs she made as he stroked her body. His fingers were splayed upwards, just barely touching the swell of her breast. He felt her mouth close around his ear lobe and smiled as she briefly teased him with a slight tug.

“Should we stop and brush our teeth?” Ginny asked, her voice soft in his ear.

“Later. You taste great.”

“Really? Onion-Ginny is great tasting?” She pulled her head back and looked at him, a look of amusement in her eyes.

“Onion-Ginny is the best bloody tasting thing in the world. Now shut up, and let's snog some more.”

“Hmm, Harry, so forceful. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Harry finally pulled his mouth away and looked at her. “Is that what you want for tonight?”

“Maybe. Maybe it’s what I need. Like how you were on the phone.”

They gazed at each other, each taking in deep breaths. Unasked questions seem to settle between them then, and Ginny eventually kissed him again, her hands straying to his hair. Harry shivered as her nails traveled down the back of his neck. She shifted closer to him, and he knew she could feel how much he wanted her. She rested her head against his forehead, her eyes meeting his.

“Let’s make love, Harry. We’re ready. I’m ready. And I want you so badly.” Her lips captured his again, and he felt his heart beat even faster now. Both of his hands were under her shirt, holding onto her back. He pulled her closer until he could feel her breasts against his chest as she pushed her hips against his erection.

Harry shifted until he had a better grip on her, turning her to the side and then lifted them both up. He wobbled only briefly and gave her what he knew was a cocky grin. Ginny laughed in response and threw her head back as he carried her towards her bedroom. They had slept together, as in actual sleeping, so Harry knew his way around her bedroom. He didn’t need to flip on the light switch as he entered. He lay her down on the bed, the light from the side window painting them both in shadows. He shook his head as he squinted down at her.

“This won’t do, I want to see you.”

Ginny looked towards her bedside table. “I put out some candles.”

Harry nodded and lit the small collection she’d put together. A warm, soft glow filled the room, and when he turned back to her, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. He stared in fascination as the light hit the more fiery aspects of her hair. The purring feeling he always felt in his chest around her suddenly erupted into action, and his stomach swooped in anticipation. He kicked off his shoes and then his socks. Harry pulled his shirt off as he approached the bed, not even feeling the least bit apprehensive.

Ginny stuck her tongue between her teeth and smiled at him. "My, my. You _are_ self-assured tonight. What’s got into you?”

Harry leaned over her, moving very slowly until she was forced to lie back against the edge of the bed. He lowered his mouth until he was almost touching her, and he gazed into her eyes until he saw the amusement change into desire. Ginny took a deep breath, her warm eyes filling with emotion.

“You,” Harry said, and then he brought his mouth quickly down to hers, and everything was just… _bliss._

They moved like one, their hands and fingers and lips and soft sighs all mingling. Harry wasn't sure how it happened, but eventually, Ginny ended up on top, and she looked down at him, her lips pink and full from their kisses. Her tee-shirt had been lost somewhere along the way, and he could see her nipples, dark against the pale cream color of her bra. He swallowed roughly and brought his eyes up to her face. From the first time Harry had seen her in that nightclub, it had been leading to this. This moment. He knew it, somehow. Their letters, their connection, their half-meetings of misunderstandings, everything that had happened had brought them to this moment. Ginny watched his face and nodded, running her hand alongside his face, cupping it. She pushed the fringe off his face, letting her fingers linger in his hair.

“I know,” she murmured.

“Ginny, I…”

“Shh, Harry. I feel it, too.” She brought her mouth down to his and kissed the side of his face, slowly kissing a trail to his ear. “You can call me Red if you want,” she whispered.

Harry shook his head. "No, you're Ginny. You’ve always been Ginny.”

She half-moaned in his ear, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his body. Harry wanted to feel all of her. He moved his hand around to her back and only struggled with clasp slightly, feeling hugely proud of that fact. Ginny winked at him as she sat back up and removed her bra for him. He drank in her body, and he brought his head up to her breast, taking one taut nipple into his mouth. She sighed and wrapped her hands into his hair. After giving each breast his attention, Harry pulled away and looked up at her.

“Having these bloody glasses on is a pain in the arse, but I can’t help it. I want to see all of you.”

Ginny giggled and looked down at him. She sat back and moved away for a moment, slipping her jeans off. Harry licked his lips as she stood there in front of him. He met her eyes and nodded. She slipped the cream-colored knickers she'd worn down over her hips, and they landed at her feet. Harry felt all the blood in his body, traveling deliriously in one direction as he gazed at her. She was… _fantastic_. In all of his would-be fantasies about Red, nothing could compare to the realness of the woman in front of him. The gentle swell of her hips, the freckles that teased and winked at him as they dotted the rest of her body, the dark, rosy color of her nipples and the way she was now watching him look at her, half-emboldened and half-anxious, pushing her hair off of her face in a gesture he had come to know well.

“Ugng,” he said unintelligently, unable to articulate a single thought. Ginny smiled and came back to the bed, shaking her head at him.

“Breathe, Harry. I’m just a girl.”

“You’re more than that,” Harry said as she settled on him again. He moved his hands upwards, taking both of her breasts into his hands. Ginny let her head loll back, pushing forward against his hips. He loved the freckled look of her skin and let one of his hands move downwards. He knew she was ticklish over her stomach and avoided that area – he didn’t want to tickle her. He knew there were other things that were a far better use of his time.

He let his fingers discover the soft yet rough feel of the hair between her legs, only a slightly darker red than on her head. He slipped a finger downward, feeling the soft swell of her sex and parted her with his fingers. Ginny brought her head back up and looked at him, her need written on her face. He continued to rub her, his thumb flicking against her, causing her body to grow hot and wet almost immediately. She watched him, her gaze intense. He’d touched her like this only once before, and at that time, he hadn’t been in the right position to enjoy the view. Harry watched her as he manipulated her, noticing the way she bit her lip when he speeded up his thumb… the way she sighed as he slowed down.

Ginny's hand came to rest around his arm, as though trying to guide him. "What do you need?" he asked, wanting to know her body like she did.

"Fingers," she said softly. "More fingers." She shifted so that he had more room, and he moved his other hand to her hip to hold her in place. His fingers strayed downwards, and he slipped one inside of her. After a moment, she nodded, and he moved another one in. He felt her clench her body around him and kept up the persistent movement of his thumb on her clit. Adding a third digit, Harry watched her as he fingered her and thought he had never seen anything as sexy as her.

Cho had never been big on foreplay, something Harry had always regretted. But he knew Ginny liked it – could even tell that, quite simply, she loved it – she was already making soft, rising moans as he thrust his fingers deeper into her. Harry was content to make her come just like this – with only his hand and her own body shifting on top of his. He watched as she brought her own hands to her breasts and started teasing her own nipples, her eyes closed in concentration. Harry paid attention to what she was doing, making a note of it for later. 

“Ginny.” He said her name once, his voice low. She opened her eyes, and they blazed with the fire he knew was inside of her. He sped up his hand and felt her shudder even as she began to rock her hips against him.

“Are you going to come for me?”Harry asked, surprised at the steadiness of his own voice. He felt anything but steady, just watching her begin to come undone was doing everything to him.

“Yes,” Ginny breathed, shifting so that she was practically riding his hand. One, two, three more steady flicks of his thumb, and she was suddenly moaning, low and wanton. Harry gripped her hip, his hand wide against the smallness of her waist as she jerked forward, his name falling out of her mouth as she came. Her head fell forward, and he kept thrusting his fingers inside of her as she gripped his arm. She finally stopped moving, and he slowed his own movement, finally withdrawing from her body. She lifted up her head and smiled at him.

“Thank you, Harry,” she murmured, and she bent her mouth down to his, kissing him soundly. He removed his hand from between her legs and then pushed her back onto the bed.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he said, and finally removed his glasses, setting them aside. He moved his head down to her breast, tasting one and then the other, licking at her freckles as he moved down her stomach.

“Harry,” she breathed, sounding pleasantly sated. She propped her head up a moment later as he continued his downward trek.

“It’s okay, Harry, you don’t have to…”

Her hands were suddenly in his hair, tugging his face back up. He looked at her fuzzy expression and shook his head.

“I know I don’t have to, but I _want_ to. Let me taste you.”

Before she could argue with him, he was pushing her legs apart and bringing his face close to her sex. He breathed in deeply and felt thoroughly aroused. He loved the way she smelled – he looked up at her and knew she was fretting from the movement of her head. He could almost make out the worried frown on her face. Harry sighed and moved back up. This wouldn’t do at all. His hand found his glasses after a few stumbling moments, and he frowned when he could finally see her.

"What is it?" he asked. “Do you not like it when…” he gestured towards her body.

“Um, no. I mean, I've er, been told it's not that er, well," Ginny stuttered, a blush working its way across her body. “I’ve been told blokes don’t really like it all that much.”

Harry settled down next to her, turning her face towards his. “What idiot told you that?”

“Michael. _And_ Dean," Ginny said, looking away. Harry frowned. 

“Well, this bloke likes it, and since those two pillocks aren't in this bloody bed with us, they can very well just stuff it.”

Ginny turned back to him, searching his face. He touched his thumb to her lip, and after a moment, she took it into her mouth, slowly moving downwards.

“Let me do this for you.”

Ginny nodded as she pulled her mouth back up, kissing the inside of his hand. "I just don't… that is, if you hate the way I taste, just…it's okay, if you stop. I mean, I won't feel let down or anything. Honest.”

Harry shook his head at her. “Close your eyes, Ginny.”

After a moment, she complied, and he took his glasses off again. He moved his mouth down to her ear, nibbling at the sensitive skin there. She sighed, and he felt her hands in his hair again as she relaxed. Harry closed his own eyes as he spoke to her. He needed to encourage her and used the only thing he knew would work – his voice.

"I'm going to kiss my way down your incredible body, and I’m going to hook your amazing legs around my shoulders, and then I am going to make you come so hard that you are going to see stars. You smell fantastic, Red, and you are going to taste even better, I know it.”

Ginny made a soft whimpering noise, and Harry reopened his eyes, gazing at her. Her brow was furrowed slightly as though still worried, and he really had half a mind to go find her previous lovers and knock them on their arses for making her this worked up about her own body. Harry knew he had to show her that he meant what he’d said.

He kissed a trail down her torso, slowly at first, her hands still gently touching his hair. He caressed her with his mouth and his hands, as though she were the most precious thing in the world. And she was to him. He paused to tell her.

"Ginny, your body is brilliant, and your skin is so soft, and I can't seem to stop tasting it, kissing it, touching it…you are so precious to me.” He nipped at her sensitive, ticklish area with his teeth, and she moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair.

When he reached her middle, he used his hand to gently push her legs apart, noticing the flare of her blush as she started to worry again. He looked up at her.

"Keep your eyes closed if it helps. Just let go,” Harry suggested, and lowered his head down and took in a long, full breath. “God, you smell so amazing, Gin. It's better than treacle tart, and it just makes me want to do this…" Harry lowered his mouth to her and kissed the inside of her thigh. She started to move away, and he wondered if she even realized she’d done it, but he used his hand to hold her in place. He brought his mouth closer to her and then parted her folds with his tongue, taking his first taste. Harry felt his body tighten in response – she was salty and sweet, and it was like the most delectable honey to him. He used his other hand to hook her legs over his shoulder and then set about making her forget everything but him.

Harry could dimly hear her sharp intake of breath as his mouth briefly closed around the round pearl of her sex. He was utterly focused on her, moving his tongue slowly around her, teasing and tasting her. He remembered Sirius’s advice about enjoying his partner as though he were eating an ice cream cone and used long, languorous flicks of his tongue around her. He used his lips to kiss her intimately, and he heard Ginny moan softly, which spurred him on.

Harry kept a steady pace and was rewarded by Ginny’s hands in his hair again, this time tugging at him for an entirely different reason. He knew he had succeeded with pleasing her when she moved her legs further apart of her own accord, starting to writhe underneath him. He released his hold on her hip and moved his hand upward, toward her breasts. She moaned rather loudly as he teased her nipple with his fingers exactly as she had done to herself earlier.

Harry used his mouth to suckle her clit again, and he was rewarded by one of her heels digging into his back. Using his other hand, he used his fingers to open her up wider, and she keened loudly, tugging harshly on the back of his head. He thrust his fingers inside of her as his mouth closed around her, and she cried out, arching underneath him. He felt her body shudder and heard his name being called as she came, which was like music to his ears. But Harry did not release her, and continued what he was doing until she whimpered, her legs falling loosely beside him. He reluctantly pulled his mouth away and rested his face against her thigh, taking in a deep breath.

He heard Ginny murmuring to herself and climbed up the length of her body to look at her. He found his glasses again and was pleased to see her hair in a tangled mess around her head, her eyes covered and her pink, kissable lips looked flushed and full. Harry lowered himself down and kissed her. Her eyes opened in surprise, and he felt her arms wrap around him after a moment.

"Harry, that was…oh my God, I never…that…ugh," Ginny muttered, looking up at him in wonder.

“Ugh?” he asked, smirking at her. She frowned as she pushed her hair out of the way.

“I am...unable to form thoughts just yet, hang on,” she paused, and then grinned at him. “Git.”

Harry chuckled and nuzzled her neck. He watched her breasts rise and fall, feeling fascinated with her body’s reaction. He was ecstatic she was so responsive to what he had done; the joyful feeling pulsed inside of him. His sex life with Cho may have just been adequate, but she too had always liked it when he did that. When she had _allowed_ him to do. Harry was just glad he hadn’t lost his touch.

“Hey,” Ginny said softly, touching his face. “You are brilliant, do you know that?”

"Well, I'll take that over 'ugh.'"

Ginny snorted at him, and he lay down next to her, seemingly unable to stop touching her. He put one hand around her waist, pulling her closer. She wrapped her hand around his and brought it up to her mouth, kissing his fingers. She closed her eyes as she breathed in.

“I don’t taste awful, then?” she asked when she opened her eyes again.

“Hardly,” Harry said, moving even closer to her. “In fact, my new favorite dessert is now you. Sod the bloody treacle.”

Ginny giggled, and they shifted together. She looked down at his body as though just realizing he still had his trousers on. “You’re a tad overdressed for all this, Harry. Come on, let’s see it then.”

Harry felt his skin heat and shook his head at her. Ginny grinned rather cheekily back at him. He stood up and removed the rest of his clothes. His natural inclination was to cover himself, but he bravely waited as her eyes took him in. His body responded immediately to the intensity of her look. She licked her lips and then met his eyes.

“You know, I don’t think a person can fully appreciate how fit you are under those baggy clothes you like to wear. You’ve honestly kept in excellent shape, Harry.”

Harry lay back on the bed and reached for her. “I’m glad you approve, Miss Weasley. You can thank your brother.”

Ginny groaned and made a face. “No, let’s not mention my brother.”

Harry laughed. “Okay, sorry. Good point.”

He worked his hand into her hair as she settled across him. They gazed at each other, silent understanding passing between them. Ginny turned her head as she moved her hand down his stomach. Harry sucked in a breath as her fingers teased the trail of hair that led from his stomach to his groin.

“Such a happy trail…” Ginny said, sounding breathless. She turned back to meet his eyes. “I feel like I have had too many orgasms tonight, and you haven’t had any.”

Harry chuckled. “It’s not a competition.”

Ginny merely raised her eyebrow and gave him a steady look. Harry swallowed roughly, reacting to the hungry glint in her eye. She turned back as her hand reached his hardness, and she touched him. She had an idea how he liked it, having helped him once or twice before, but still, she always checked to make sure it was okay. Harry propped himself up on the back of his hands and nodded. She grinned impertinently and then moved down his body. Her mouth closed around him, and he sighed, letting his head fall back. Harry knew he should stop her – he wanted to come during intercourse, but Ginny’s mouth around his body was too good a sensation to give up. He watched her fiery mane of hair as her head moved, and he swore, his fingers digging into the bed cover. She was too bloody good at this.

“Gin, Gin, Gin,” Harry moaned, and she paused, turning to look at him.

“Yes, Harry? Do you have something to say?”

She sounded like such a cheeky thing, and he laughed at her, feeling exhilarated. “You can go down on me next time, this time I want more.”

Ginny gave him a hard, blazing look for a moment, and he watched her lower her mouth down to his still eager body again. He held his breath as she moved her mouth back and forth. _Well, maybe he had been a bit hasty…_

Ginny kept her eyes on him, and Harry swore, fumbling for his glasses, yet again. She smiled, her mouth full of…well, _him_ , as he slid them up his nose. She moaned in response, and the vibration of it hit him, causing his breath to catch. She brought her mouth slowly upwards and pulled her hair out of the way, shoving it over her left shoulder.

"Yes, you'll need your glasses for this show," she said, winking, and before Harry could respond, her mouth claimed him for the third time, and it was all he could do to keep from crying out.

Ginny let her eyes flutter closed as she sucked at him, and Harry felt dizzy with sensation. She reached under him, her hands gently squeezing his balls. Her mouth felt like hot, warm treacle around him, and Harry gripped the bed cover again, his fingers flexing harshly. When her fingers traveled even more under him, he grunted, widening his legs. She teased him mercilessly, barely touching him where he wanted it.

“God, Ginny, fuck," Harry moaned. Her eyes flickered open, and he trembled at the passion he saw in her gaze. Working her tongue slowly upwards, she pulled her mouth away briefly, twirling it around the head of his cock.

“What’s the matter? Want more?” she asked impishly. He watched as she brought her hand up to her mouth, wetting her fingers with her saliva and then finally moved her hand back down to him, gently grazing the area he needed. She lowered her mouth down and took one of his balls into her mouth as her finger entered him gently, and Harry knew nothing but complete and utter pleasure.

A few moments of this, and Harry was almost done for – his body was careening towards release. He exhaled loudly, trying to think of anything that would prolong the pleasure. She shifted, and his eyes found hers as she brought her mouth back up and continued on as before, her head lowering and moving back up deliriously slow.

“Faster, please,” Harry ground out, almost not able to take it anymore. He could almost feel her smile as she speeded up her movements, and he bucked upwards against his will, suddenly coming without any warning. Harry swore and collapsed back onto the bed as Ginny continued her ministrations. His heart was beating so fast he thought he might actually be having a heart attack if not for the pleasurable feeling spreading through him. Harry popped up his head and watched Ginny use her mouth to clean him off, a bright flash of pink across her face. He reached for her, and she joined him a moment later, settling into his arms.

“Fuck,” Harry said again, and Ginny giggled, her nose against his neck, nuzzling him.

"You're lucky I was ready for that, or you could really hurt a girl," she teased, looking at him. Harry was staring at the ceiling, almost completely numb with pleasure.

“I don’t usually just explode like that," Harry said, feeling dazed. He tried to focus on her. "You're alright, though, right? I didn't hurt you?"

She shook her head. “I could tell you were close, I was ready. You get the most adorable expression on your face though. I want you to know that.”

“I do?”

Ginny nodded and pulled a face that suddenly had him laughing and feeling more than a little embarrassed. "Oh, god, I do not. Please tell me I look suaver than _that_.”

Ginny’s eyes filled with mirth. “You look adorable.”

Harry shook his head. “I guess I can live with adorable, as long as you think it.”

Ginny kissed him, moving closer to him and mingling her legs with his. “It’s erotically adorable.”

“Oh, well then, that’s all right.”

They both sighed, and Harry couldn't remember the last time he had ever felt so completely and utterly satisfied. 

“Harry?” Ginny asked after a few moments.

“Hmm?”

“Can we take a nap and shag later?”

"Well, I'm not going anywhere now, that's for sure. I'm completely boneless over here, and I feel like putty. It may be a week before I can even stand again.”

Ginny snorted and propped her head up to look at him. “Well, I hope you’re not boneless for long. A woman has needs that need to be met eventually.”

"Duly noted." Harry kissed her, and she settled against him again. He let his lips linger on the top of her head, and he took a deep breath of her always uniquely floral scent. Harry removed his glasses and closed his eyes, holding her close and feeling as though he never wanted to let go.

o-o-o-o-o

Harry was dreaming of soft and warm things, and as he finally gained consciousness, he realized he was someplace very lovely indeed. He and Ginny had shifted during their 'nap.' She was now curled on her side, facing away from him. Harry’s body had definitely noticed it was a nice place to be. He placed a kiss on her shoulder, and she murmured softly.

He started trying to wake her up by running a hand along her side. He brought his arm in between them and let his fingers travel over her fantastic arse. He turned and saw his glasses were still next to them and grabbed them, slipping them on. He grinned to himself and lowered his mouth down to where her hips began, placing a small trail of kisses there. She shifted forward, her legs parting, and Harry felt as though he had won the lottery. Moving his mouth down lower, he teased her, puckering his lips and blowing warm breath onto her. She moaned softly, and he let his fingers travel downward, slipping in between her legs.

Harry sighed as he found her warm and wet, and he slowly started to touch her. He watched her body respond, and when he glanced up at her face, she had turned and was watching him. He removed his hand and gave her a wide grin.

“Hi,” he said, not even feeling a little bit ashamed.

Her cheeks flushed red, and she raised an eyebrow at him. "Hi, yourself. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Touching this amazing body that just happens to have awoken something up on my own that needs tending to." They both looked down at Harry's middle and Ginny snorted.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, peering down at him. She turned over onto her back, and Harry shifted until he was leaning over her, resting his weight on his hands. They gazed at each other for a moment. Ginny reached out with her hand and cupped his face.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“I think, that is…I am fairly sure,” she paused, seemingly nervous about something.

"What is it?" He kissed her hand and leaned into her touch. He moved his other hand to her hair, spreading it out behind her.

“Before we…do this, I wanted you to know, I… I love you.”

Harry stopped what he was doing and met her gaze. He felt too many emotions at once and shook his head. He saw the flash of disappointment cross her face and swore.

“No, Ginny, I didn’t mean it like that, I just…I feel overwhelmed suddenly." He sat back, and she followed, sitting up in front of him.

“I know, I didn’t mean to make this…heavier, but I wanted you to know. Before we do anything else.”

Harry pulled her to him until she was in his arms and kissed her forehead. “It’s not heavier. It’s just right. I think I love you, too.”

Ginny tightened her arms around him. “I…I never told anyone else that before. I mean, anyone else that wasn’t related to me." She pulled her head away and gave him a fierce look. “You’ve completely changed me, Harry. I don’t feel like being cautious or afraid anymore. I want everything that life can throw at me as long as you’re next to me.”

“I know what you mean," Harry said because he did. Knowing that she was there for him, with him, it meant the world to him. He had never felt this way about anyone else, either. His feelings for Cho, although they had been sweet and young and what he thought he had wanted, were, in retrospect, a pale comparison to what he had with Ginny. She had become his world without even trying.

“You’re stuck with me then, because I feel the same way, and Sirius always used to tell me that whenever I finally decided to fall it was going to be hard and fast and forever.”

Ginny gazed at him in understanding and then smirked as she sat up. “Don’t tease. Hard and fast and forever sound just about perfect right now.”

Harry chuckled and then released her as she lay back on the bed. He watched her hand moving down the front of her body and the feeling in the room changed – as though a live wire had been introduced into it. He watched her skin flush with arousal and felt heady with desire.

“Your eyes get darker when you’re really turned on,” she said softly, watching him. “Do you know how many times after our dates I’ve had to lie here, thinking of you touching me? Wanting to feel you moving inside me?”

Harry shook his head, not trusting his voice. One of her hands teased her nipples as her other one darted between her legs. She arched her head back, a slight moan escaping. Harry felt full of wanton needs and felt his breath catch, suddenly wanting to be inside her more than anything.

He glanced around and spied his trousers on the floor and got off the bed quickly, grabbing them from the floor. Ginny turned her head to watch him. Recognizing what he needed, she smiled at him.

"I have a whole box on the side table. I bought them special. But don’t let that go to your head.”

Harry dropped his trousers to the floor again and turned to open her drawer. He smiled as he saw her Rabbit staring boldly up at him. He glanced over his shoulder at her.

“You are a minx.” He lifted the vibrator out of the drawer and showed it to her. “Do you think you’ll need it tonight?”

Ginny smiled at him and turned on her side. "We could use it if you wanted."

“I do have fond memories of this thing,” Harry said, snickering.

“Wanna watch me?”

Harry blinked at her, knowing he probably looked utterly gobsmacked. “Er, um, is there a better phrase to use than ‘hell yes?’”

Ginny laughed, the sound of her amusement doing something to his insides that he didn’t think he would ever get tired of. He handed her the toy and then grabbed one of the condoms from the drawer.

“How does it work?” Harry asked, watching her as he settled back on the bed.

Ginny grinned and moved so that she was sitting up, her knees apart. She pressed a small button on the handle, and the toy flared to life. He remembered the buzzing noise well and felt his skin heat. He reached out to touch it, and Ginny smirked, handing it to him.

“Is it…” he paused as his fingers touched the soft, almost skin-like feel of the covering. “It’s soft and warm.”

Ginny nodded. “And fast, but sometimes it does make one miss the human touch, so no worries about being replaced, ever, Harry.” She pushed the button on the handle again, and the buzzing noise only increased, and Harry laughed.

“Blimey, I already feel insufficient.”

Ginny turned off the toy immediately and tossed it aside. Her expression grew serious. “Then I’ll not use it. I don’t want you thinking that at all.”

Harry gave her a look and handed it back to her. “No, go on. Pretend I’m not here. Or, better yet, close your eyes. I can talk you through it.”

"Just for a warm-up," Ginny said, nodding at him. He watched as she lowered the toy down to her sex and slipped it between her folds. Harry felt immensely turned on watching her. Her eyes never left his as she maneuvered the toy to a better angle.

“Good girl,” Harry murmured, taking hold of himself, stroking. “You’re so wet, already, aren’t you, Ginny?”

“Yes, for you, Harry, _oh_ ,” she sighed, half-pleasure and half-some other emotion he couldn’t describe. Maybe it was frustration for she suddenly looked at him, eyes glowing with need. "Sod this, I'm ready now. Please, Harry." She turned off the toy and reached for him, and he went to her. They kissed, the passion flaring up between them like a wildfire.

When they broke apart, Ginny took the condom that was still in his other hand and tore the package open. She looked at him, and he nodded, letting her put it on him. She rolled it downwards, and then chuckled as her hand stumbled. “Maybe I need an assist?”

Harry put his hand around hers and helped her finish. Ginny was on birth control as well, but they had both decided that a condom was also going to be used. At least, until they could both get to the doctor. He didn’t mind and figured the condom would actually help him from not going off as soon as he felt her body around his.

They looked at each other as Ginny’s hand gripped him, tugging him forward gently. Her lips captured his in a searing kiss, and Harry was pushing her back onto the bed, wanting to be inside her already. He propped himself up on his hands, and she gazed up at him, her expression full of so many wondrous things. Harry let his hand move down across her until he found her opening. She was warm and wet and ready for him, he could tell. She widened her legs for him, and he fitted himself between them.

"Hi," she said, sounding shy, and he looked at her, brushing her hair off of her face.

“Hey, fancy meeting you here.”

They both grinned stupidly at each other, and Ginny sighed, shifting until her legs wrapped around his body, bringing him in even closer. Her brown eyes were full of warmth and emotion. She had the prettiest brown eyes he had ever seen, actually. Chocolate in color and incredibly lively – they reflected most of her moods quite perfectly. He leaned in and kissed her nose, feeling silly suddenly. She chuckled.

“Going to make me beg, is that it?” She asked, pushing his hair off of his face for him.

Harry shook his head, and before she could say anything, he was sliding forward into her body, groaning as he did so. Harry pushed all the way in and then stopped, letting their bodies get used to each other. She arched up closer to him, her breasts brushing against him, nipples hard. She released a low exhale of breath, and he watched her face as she adjusted.

“All right?” he asked softly.

Ginny nodded. “Yeah, you’re…oh, Harry… _move_ , damn you," she smiled as she said it, her eyes filling with mischief. Harry gave her a sheepish grin and started moving, pushing even further in and then back out. He loved the way they fit together, it was perfect, almost. Harry set a steady rhythm, enjoying each thrust as her body met his. Her legs tightened around him, instinctively, and Ginny bit her lip as he started to move his hips.

“Oh, fuck, like that, yes,” she was murmuring, tossing her head back and forth until her hair was in a tangle. Harry paused and lifted it out the way for her.

“Don’t hide, Ginny, I want to watch your reaction every time I do this,” he said, starting again, pulling her closer to him with the hand on her hip. She closed her eyes and moaned, the sound filling the bedroom. He moved and thrust, each time enjoying the flare of pleasure that flitted across her features. Harry shifted and pulled back, knowing he didn't have much longer, but he wanted to make her come at least once while still inside her. He removed his hand from her hip and touched her, rubbing her clit. Her eyes flew open, and her mouth made an ‘o’ shape of wonder, and he felt her let go underneath him only a few moments later.

Ginny shuddered and cried out his name, and he pushed her legs up so that he could thrust more freely. It didn’t take very long for his body to react to the way hers tightened around his, and he cried out, his release tearing through him. 

Harry fell forward, Ginny’s arms and legs holding him in place for what felt like an eternity to him. When he could finally see straight again, he adjusted his glasses, since they were half-hanging off his face. Ginny smirked at him.

“You got a bit exuberant there. Your glasses almost fell off.”

Harry smiled lazily at her. "Sorry, I wasn't too rough, was I?"

“Hmm,” Ginny murmured, moving so that they were both laying on their sides, still joined. Harry sucked in a breath as her body gripped his. “No. You could have done it harder. We’ll have to experiment.”

Harry chuckled, moving his mouth to her neck. “You say the sweetest things, Gin.”

Ginny sighed as Harry pulled regrettably out of her. He removed the condom and leaned across the bed to discard it into her rubbish bin. She watched him, another smirk on her face.

"What?" Harry asked, looking down at himself.

“Nothing. It’s just, you have such a fine backside, Harry. I haven’t had a chance to appreciate it until just now.”

He felt himself blush and lay back, nodding at her to join him. She fitted into the crook of his arms and sighed against his chest.

“You can call me Gin, any time you want, by the way. I usually don’t allow it, but I love hearing your say it, Harry.”

“Really? Why don’t you like it?”

She looked up at him, frowning. “I think Fred and George used to tease me with it. I don’t know why, but I always associated it with being annoyed. But when you say it, I sort of melt inside and become all gooey. God, that sounds ridiculous."

Ginny blushed and hid her face under her hair. Harry chuckled and lifted it off her face, kissing her cheek.

“I think it’s sweet, Gin. I’ll just use it when we’re alone, how’s that?”

“Perfect, Harry,” she snuggled against him and sighed. “You know what I really want now?”

“For me to do you from behind?”

Ginny snorted. “Harry! Well, maybe later, but now I kind of want that treacle tart. What time is it, it’s not too late for coffee, is it?”

Harry looked at the clock on the top of her wardrobe. “It’s sort of late, but it’s okay, I brought the expensive decaf. And we can sleep in tomorrow, anyway.”

Ginny stretched and smiled at him. “Excellent point. Right, well, you get the coffee, and I’ll get the tart and some plates. Let’s eat on the settee.”

They got up, and Harry grabbed his boxers and slipped them on, while Ginny grabbed a dressing gown she had hanging on her door. He was sad to see her skin all covered up and she gave him a knowing look as she pushed him out the door towards the kitchen.

“I’ll be naked again soon enough,” she said. 

"This may be the best day of my entire life," Harry said. "Great sex, great coffee, and what I am sure is going to great treacle tart.”

They busied themselves with their tasks, and a couple of minutes later, Ginny was carrying over two plates with two large pieces of dessert on them. Harry waited for the coffee to finish and then brought over two cups. He’d poured a generous helping of milk in each, hoping she liked it that way. He closed his eyes and sat down, breathing in the rich aroma from the coffee. He opened his eyes when he heard Ginny laughing.

“What?”

“Just you and your love affair with coffee.” Ginny took a drink of her own, nodding her head in approval. “I like it. Mind, I don't love it like you do, but this isn't bad. It must be all the milk. Weakens the bitter taste I associate with coffee usually. Now, go on, try the treacle. Tell me what you think."

Harry picked up his forked and dived in. He let the sweet taste of the tart melt on his tongue for a moment and then sighed. He looked at her in amazement.

“You are bloody brilliant.”

Ginny laughed and took her own bite as well. “Yeah, you’re right, I am. This turned out pretty good.”

“It turned out fantastic. You have surpassed your Mum’s variation, I think.”

“Well, don’t tell her that.”

“No, I do value my bits where they are.”

They ate in silence for a moment, and Ginny stretched out across from him when she was finished, holding her cup in her hand. She smiled at him.

“So it was great sex, huh?”

Harry almost spit out the coffee he had just drunk and looked at her as he put his cup down. “Er, yeah, I’ll say it was. I mean, wasn’t it?” He felt himself blush, suddenly nervous that he had misread her reactions all night, and felt a terrible sinking sensation in his stomach.

Ginny placed her cup down and crawled over the couch towards him, and Harry suddenly forgot to breathe. She pushed him back as she took his plate and coffee out of his hands. She had a wicked look in her eyes as she straddled him, untying the sash around her middle and letting the dressing gown fall off her shoulders. Harry licked his lips and stared up at her.

“I think we should make sure it wasn’t beginner’s luck, Harry. We owe it to shagging to do it in every position.”

“In one night?”

Ginny smirked as her hands moved down his chest towards his growing excitement. “Well, as many ways as we can.”

Ginny kissed him, and he pulled into his arms, moving his hand down her back. He could already feel the heat of her body against him, and as she rocked her hips against his, he groaned. When they finally broke apart, he raised his eyebrow at her.

“Really? We owe it to shagging?”

She nodded her head slowly, amusement in her eyes. Harry shrugged. “Well, one must do what one must. But you never answered my question, you know.”

“No, we are not going to do it all in one night,” she said as she nipped at his earlobe, teasing him.

“I meant about the sex not being great.”

Ginny pulled away and saw how serious he was and gave him a slight frown. “You really couldn’t tell I loved it?”

“I mean, I thought you did, but er, well…blokes like to be told these things sometimes, I reckon.”

Ginny stood up then and looked down at him, smiling. “It was great, Harry. The best sex ever. Satisfied?” She tugged on his hand, shaking her head and started leading him towards the bedroom. He stopped her at the doorway and pulled her body tautly against his so that she could feel how satisfied he suddenly wasn’t.

Harry lowered his mouth to her ear and kissed the sensitive skin there. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Gin.”

She turned around and winked at him, letting the dressing gown fall entirely away. "Neither have you, Harry. You were saying something about doing it from behind next?”

Harry laughed as she sauntered away from him towards the bed, appreciating the view. He would have never thought that football, email, and a red-headed girl could change his life – his heart – so completely. But they had, and Harry was thankful. And he couldn’t wait for the rest of it begin.

o-o-o-o-o


	11. Epilogue

A few weeks later, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had decided to go out to dinner – a sort of couple's night celebration that Ginny and Hermione had hatched for some reason. Harry couldn't really understand why; the two couples saw each other all the time, anyway, but if it meant that Ginny got to wear a new, slinky style of dress, then he was all for it.

She looked sexy as hell, to Harry's eyes, and he had seen her in every way possible the last few weeks, he was proud to say, and yet still, she kept on impressing him. She'd worn her hair up, and her dress was the darkest sort of blue, just two shades away from being black. It caught the light and shimmied when she moved, as though she were wearing a dress made out of dark water. She had donned high heels too, something he couldn't wait to put to use later – they made her almost as tall as he was, and he loved the difference when they kissed.

Hermione also looked very lovely, and she had a glow about her that Harry hadn't noticed before. But then again, ever since realizing he was in love with Ginny, he saw a lot of things he hadn't had a chance to before. It was like the world was full of vibrant, vivacious colors now, and he almost felt blinded sometimes.

They were waiting outside a new restaurant that had just opened at the end of high street – _The Herbed Serpent_ – and even Harry was surprised by the number of people standing in the queue. Luckily, he'd made reservations. Although he'd had to drop his name just to get an 8pm sitting. Ginny looked around them, a smirk on her face. She smiled at him.

"Bet some of these women wish they were on your arm right now," she whispered, moving her mouth closer to his ear.

Harry chuckled at her. “Only some?”

"Well, I was giving myself a margin of error, things being what they are with human attractiveness levels. But sod that, _all_ the women want to be on your arm, and maybe some of the blokes too. That one over there can’t stop looking at you.”

Harry turned his head and saw a taller man with dark hair and sky-blue eyes who kept glancing their way, a faint blush on his cheeks. Harry shook his head at Ginny.

“Pretty sure he’s looking at _you_. You do look stunning tonight, have I mentioned?”

Ginny grinned. “Once, maybe twice. Okay, a few dozen times. I’m glad you like it. I wanted to look especially pretty for you tonight.”

“You look pretty every night to me.”

"And you look good enough to eat, in that suit of yours, so let's not linger too long tonight, hmm? I definitely want to have a taste. And that man _is_ staring at you again."

Harry shook his head at her and watched as the other bloke turned away again, definitely embarrassed at being caught looking.

“Or maybe he’s looking at the both of us,” Ginny whispered, her voice low and promiscuous. “We could try to chat him up.” Harry didn’t reply because he knew she was only teasing him. He had found out that one of Ginny’s most favorite things to do in their relationship was to tease him. Often and mercilessly.

Harry felt himself blush again and finally shushed her. “He’s only wondering how a git like me pulled such a sexy creature as you, and how we managed to be closer to the food than him.”

Ginny finally laughed. “That’s my boy, so humble.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, and Harry took her hand, giving it a squeeze. This was one of their first official nights out together where there would actually be press – he had been worried they would cause a sensation, but so far, nothing. Which was just how he liked it.

“Bloody hell, the food in this place better impress,” Ron said as he strained his neck over the crowd. Hermione turned around and smiled at Harry and Ginny.

"I'm so excited! The head chef trained in France extensively! He's been in very high demand!"

"But his father built him the restaurant. That might mean he stinks," Ron said, glancing at his wife. "Or worse, maybe he only cooks French food well. Which would be a bit disappointing, really."

“Oh, hush. I am sure they have regular food too, Ron. You don’t have to worry about eating anything you don’t like.”

Harry and Ginny shared a glance, identical smirks on their faces. Just then, the queue moved, and the Maitre d' called them forward – it was time. Harry felt his stomach grumble in response.

The main dining room of the restaurant was very nice – it was sleek and modern, with highlights in green and silver. As soon as they entered, there was a hush that fell over everything, blocking out the noises from the crowd and the world outside. There were a few other couples and groups already seated, with soft, classical music playing overhead. As they sat down and looked at their menu, Harry realized this was going to be a costly meal indeed.

"Blimey," Ron muttered next to him. "Good thing I robbed that bank on the way over."

“Dinner is on us,” Ginny announced, as Hermione nodded her head in agreement. Harry and Ron looked at each other and then at the women.

“What?” Harry asked, not sure he had understood.

"We decided to treat you and no, no arguments, and yes, we realize this place isn't cheap. But I just got my bonus from work, and Hermione got some good news, too. And your birthday is coming up, Harry, so consider this part of your present. From both of us."

“Where did you get heaps of dosh?” Ron said, staring at his wife.

"I sold my article to the British Journal of Sociology. They've agreed to pay me more than I was actually asking for, so I thought, why not?" Hermione said shrugging. A waiter came over to offer them goblets of water with lemon, limes, and oranges.

Before Ron could argue with her, Harry smiled at her. “That’s brilliant, Hermione, what was your article about?”

As Hermione began to explain her article, Harry got a weird sensation at the back of his neck and glanced about. He wondered if the bloke from outside had been seated and was staring at them again. But instead, Harry saw a tall, older man - slightly older than Sirius and Remus, at any rate - watching them from across the room. He had long, pale blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. The man finally looked away from Harry, and started talking to one of the wait staff . Harry felt a shiver and didn't realize he'd reacted until Ginny touched his arm.

“What is it? Hermione’s article isn’t that boring, is it?” she whispered to him out of the side of her mouth.

Harry shook his head, whispering back. “No, it’s just that I got a funny feeling while that bloke was looking at us. Guess I imagined it.”

Harry tuned back into what Hermione was saying and put the feeling out of his head. Just then a loud commotion came from the front of the restaurant, and they heard cries of 'Thomas! Thomas! Thomas!' from outside. Harry saw Ginny go white next to him. A moment later, he understood why.

Romilda Vane and Dean Thomas had just made their entrance, and apparently, the whole world had followed. The blond-haired man Harry had seen came striding forward, using a walking stick, of all things to break his stride. Harry thought he looked like a glorified dandy with that stick and wondered if the other man knew what a git he looked like. The older man held up his hands to the new couple as though to shield the rest of the dining room from the disturbance.

Romilda's eyes alighted on their table, and Harry saw a huge grin break out across her face. "Oh, hell," he whispered, and saw similar emotions on everyone else's faces. A few moments later, and Romilda was practically prancing toward their table, dragging Dean Thomas and a reporter behind her.

“Ooh! Hermione! Hello. I thought that was you. And _hello_ , Ron. And look, Dean, it’s your _old_ throwaway, Ginny. Oh, and Harry, too. How nice and...dull. What a perfect foursome you all make. So exciting. Can't imagine why the media aren't hounding you like they're hounding us. But then, we're not three nobodies and a has-been." She tossed her hair and smiled widely at the reporter who was writing everything down. To Harry, Romilda appeared completely off her trolley.

Harry felt Ginny stiffen beside him, her eyes narrowing, and her ears going pink. Before she could speak, however, Hermione stood up and nodded at Romilda.

"Hello, Romilda. Lovely to see you. How did you enjoy your time at the…" Hermione paused dramatically and looked around, her voice taking on the sound of a stage whisper. "The fat farm? Or wait, they don't call it that anymore, do they? What do they say now? Oh, yes, the _spa_. How did you enjoy your time at the spa?”

“I was not at a _fat_ farm,” Romilda said, her voice tinged with loathing. She glanced over her shoulder at the reporter, frowning.

“Oh? No? Sorry, that must have been a rumor I heard from a friend that works in one. She could have sworn it was you. My mistake.” Hermione shrugged and then sat down, beaming at them. Harry could barely hold in his laughter.

Romilda stared at all of them, her face filling with color. Harry saw Dean tug on her hand, his expression embarrassed. The blonde-haired man, who was apparently the owner, came over to them and had a staff member lead them away. He looked down at their table, a brief smile on his face.

“I am sorry for the intrusion. Celebrities, alas, you know what they’re like. Have a complimentary starter and drinks on my behalf. And Mr Potter, it is lovely to see you out and about. How’s that football injury? Hmm?”

Before Harry could answer, he was gone, his blonde-hair trailing behind him. Everyone at the table looked at each other in disbelief.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said, sighing. “You two girls sure know how to pick a restaurant. I think I’ll be having the Filet Mignon, now.”

“Ron!” Hermione said, shaking her head at him.

"What? It's on you, you said. And now, since we have free drinks and starters, you two won't have to spend an arm and a leg this evening."

“You know, Ginny, I’m so glad you saved me from her that night at the club,” Harry said, his eyes following Romilda and Dean being seated. “That kiss changed my life in so many ways, it’s not even measurable.”

Ginny smiled at him and squeezed his hand. Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione to see his best mate staring at him as though he'd grown another head.

“What?” Harry asked, looking down at himself.

Ron looked between him and Ginny, his face turning pink. “Are you telling me that _my_ sister is the girl from the nightclub?”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other.

"Er, I thought you knew, Ron," Ginny said, confused. “You never told him I was Red?”

Harry frowned, thinking about it. “Actually, no, I didn’t. I just assumed Hermione had.” The three of them turned to look at their bushy-haired friend, who was grinning back at them.

She shrugged. “I was waiting for the perfect moment.”

Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish for a few moments before he looked at them. "So Ginny was the girl? The email girl? The one from the phone?"

Ginny shook her head. "Yes, Ron, we've already established that. Do keep up. What are you going to have, Harry? I think the guinea fowl sounds lovely. Hmm, with rosemary."

Harry looked worriedly at Ron. “It doesn’t change anything, mate. It just proves I’ve always been crazy about her, yeah?”

Ron looked at his sister, who was ignoring him, and then he looked at his wife, who was also staring at her menu. He met Harry's eyes. "Bloody hell. You're lucky I like you so much, Harry. _And_ that you made an honest woman out of her.”

Ginny slapped her menu down on the table and stared at her brother. "Let's get one thing straight, Ron, no matter if he had or hadn't, I am free to do whatever I please with whomever I want, and you cannot do one thing to stop me, is that clear?"

Ron’s mouth twitched in amusement after a moment of staring at Ginny. “God, you’re so easy to upset, Sis. Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I was only teasing you. I’m just glad you two idiots figured each other out.”

Ginny shook her head at her brother, her color returning to normal, thankfully. Harry released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Oh yeah, his life was definitely never going to be boring, ever again.

o-o-o-o-o


End file.
